Wings, Amnesia, and All That Other Fun Stuff
by Demijewel
Summary: It's humor with a plot! Sorta. Oh, and there's a few gazillion original characters added in on the side.
1. The Beginning

**I've posted this on another forum, but I'm going to put it here as well, simply because this site makes the chapters easier to sort(and I have _way_ too many chapter things, trust me).**

**Right, so, this story is meant to be a humorous fanfiction, and if anything contradicts reality way too much, here's my explanation: It's magic. All problems fixed. Also, this is somewhat of a parody of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**Disclaimer: I do not, have not, and will not ever own the Inheritance Cycle. Thankfully.  
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**Great, author's note over. Go on, read the story. You know you want to.**

**Part one: Let's see what happens.  
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My eyes snapped open.

My memory was like a blank wall; I could remember nothing. Nothing, except for one fragment. I remembered tripping over something, then falling down towards the concrete sidewalk, my heavy backpack pushing me down. Then I had slammed into the hard ground.

I sat up, noticing immediately three things: I wasn't on the sidewalk, but somewhere in the middle of a snowy forest; I wasn't wearing my t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers, but instead black shorts made of some light, cool fabric that felt like silk, and a sleeveless shirt made of the same material as the shorts, and yes, they were cold; and there was something heavy on my back, and it wasn't my backpack.

I groaned and flexed my imaginary wings, a thought that felt natural to me, and turned around, preparing to be disappointed for what I assumed would be the millionth time. To my surprise, I wasn't disappointed. My eyes widened as I stared at them. _I had wings._

They were black, two large wings that, when I extended them, where at least fourteen feet wide. They looked just like I figured I had always expected them to be: limbs covered in black scales, translucent dark grey membrane stretched out below them. Kind of like pair of miniature dragon wings.

I folded them experimentally. My practice (I thought I had practiced with them, I wasn't too sure) with the imaginary wings had taught me how to control their real brothers, and they did just I wanted them to. Delighted, I extended them, then folded them tightly against my back. I grinned, then craned my neck back to examine them. There were two large openings in the back of the shirt that allowed my wings free movement. Tiny blood vessels bulged through the wing membrane. I gently touched the membrane, and learned that it was tougher than its delicate appearance led me to believe. It would take a pretty strong guy with a really big knife to cut through it. The scales were nearly impenetrable. Said pretty strong guy with a really big knife wouldn't be able to so much as scratch them.

"Woah," I muttered, simply to hear my own voice. It was deeper than a normal girl's. "Ya'know, I don't really care whether I have a memory or not, long as I've got these."

I crouched on all four legs and hopped while beating my wings furiously, trying to lift into flight, but I wasn't sure whether it was because I hadn't been born with wings, because this was a pretty cramped space, because I was normally scared of heights, or because this was my first time, but nothing happened. If you didn't count me fanning myself, that was.

With an annoyed sigh, I stood up and folded my wings against my back. Since there really wasn't all that much to do there, I set off into the forest.

I had amnesia, but it was only the events and the people that I didn't remember. I remembered actions, emotions, things like that. And I knew, for the fourteen years of my life, I had resented shoes and socks. Being barefoot without worrying about people shouting at me to put on my shoes was a relief, to say the least, and I was pretty sure this was the first time in my life I had actually felt dirt, true forest dirt, albeit cold true forest dirt, with my feet. You wouldn't believe how nice it is to be able to land toe-first in soft mucky soil when you've only ever known landing heel-first in a sock, which in turn lands in a shoe, and then lands on cement, which then touches humanized dirt.

Now, the other aspects of the forests weren't as nice, but they were pleasant enough, with not a trace of pollution in the air. The forest may have been snowy, but the path that I walked had a bunch of hoofprints, as if it were used a lot, and the snow had all been trampled away. Where there wasn't damp forest floor, there were ferns, and ancient trees rose up from everywhere. Squirrels, birds, insects, and all the other little forest critters conversed loudly, but the early mist muffled the noise.

After a few hours of walking, I came across a stream. I tossed my head in and gulped greedily at the cool, refreshing water. After I had sated my thirst, I lay back on the ground, my feet in the water, my neck-length dark brown hair pressed against the dirt, one wing squashed under me and the other stretched out, soaking up the late morning sun's welcome heat.

I heard something moving behind me, but I thought it was might just be a fox or something. Then I felt the point of a sword at my throat and saw a red blade gleaming above me, one with a black inscription carved into it.

"Eff," I said flatly.


	2. Meeting the Trio

**Part two. Saphira's going to be out of character right now, but I'm much too lazy to change it.**

An old silver-haired wrinkle-faced guy stepped out from behind the tree. He held the bright red sword against my throat, and he carried a pack on his back. Ooh, that rhymed!

"Who are you?" he growled. "Are you on Galbatorix's side?"

"Say who?" I asked, confused.

"Stop lying," he snarled. "If you won't tell me, I'll have to resort to force."

"And this isn't force?" I said, staring pointedly at Mr. Old Guy's nice little sword.

The old man chuckled humorlessly. "Oh, this is nothing."

Then I felt the old guy's consciousness probing at my mind, and my brain automatically set up defenses, walls that blocked him from entering. I felt surprise from him, and he renewed his attack. I began concentrating on one phrase, repeating it over and over in my mind, completely shielding myself. _You are stupid. You are stupid. You are stupid._The old guy's expression was so angry, it was almost comical.

"Alright, alright," he muttered. "You'll talk soon enough."

Suddenly, something big and blue zoomed down and landed next to me, a cloud of dust rising up around it. It was a dragon, young, too, if its size was any indicator. Its scales were blue, like its eyes. Big white spikes rose up from its back, with a gap between them behind the long neck. A saddle was strapped into said gap. I winced as one of its feet landed on my outstretched wing, which was much smaller than the dragon's, but besides that, they looked the same except for the color. Its were blue, like its body, while mine were black. The dragon snorted a puff of smoke and moved its foot off the membrane, much to my relief.

_Brom,_ the dragon said through my mind, surprise and disbelief in her voice. _Are these_ wings_?_

"What?" asked Brom, glancing at where the dragon was looking. His mouth dropped open into a perfect "O" when he finally noticed my wing.

_Who are you?_ the dragon asked me warily.

"How the bloody hell am I supposed to know?" I snapped at it. Having cold metal against my neck, as well as having my wing trampled on, was definitely not improving my mood. "First this old guy comes out of nowhere and goes all cliche on me, then you come out and step on my damn wing. What, is it a crime for relaxing in these parts?"

_Put up the sword, Brom,_ the dragon said. _I have a feeling she does not mean us harm._

Brom grumbled and slid the sword into its matching scabbard. His hand never once let go of it. "You're too trusting, Saphira."

Saphira ignored him. She stared at me as I sat up, rubbing my neck and folding my left wing safely against my back, ignoring the pain. I said angrily, "Now would someone explain to me where I am, what is going on here, and who are you? Mr. Crazy Sword-Happy Moron is not helping."

The dragon shook her massive head in disbelief. _You don't know?_

"Well, I'd have thought that much was pretty obvious," I commented dryly.

"I think we should just kill her now and be done with it," Brom said, glaring at me.

"Paranoid little jerk," I muttered, just loud enough to let him hear. The old man's nostrils flared, and his eyes blazed.

_Stop arguing, you two,_ Saphira interrupted. _Let's call Eragon here and decide then. Therinsford is no more than a day away on foot, so if things do not go well, we can always drop her off there._

"She might talk about you," Brom warned. "You are in charge right now because you need to learn how to make your decisions, and we'll do as you say. I just hope you won't regret it."

_Eragon's coming,_Saphira said, ignoring him.

"Well then, now that you two are done talking," I said, "I'll just be on my way."

I got up and tried to cross the stream, but Saphira blocked me with her tail. _Wait._

I sighed impatiently. "Great, and how long am I supposed to stay here? This is boring, and besides, I'm hungry."

_What is your name, and who are you?_Saphira asked. She seemed to have this nasty habit of ignoring people.

"Isn't that the same same thing?" I grumbled. When no response came, I continued, "Fine, I don't know my name, and I don't know who I am, either. I just woke up somewhere back there and I can't remember anything else. Well, I can still speak English, but that doesn't count."

"Typical," Brom snorted. "It's always amnesia."

"What do you mean?" I asked him irritably. "Fine, go check it out then, see if you find anything."

I opened my mind, allowing Brom full access to all my memories, which had less than three hours of content. He sifted through them, ignoring my discomfort, and he kept on checking and rechecking some of them. Finally, after what felt like ages, he retreated, giving me my much-needed privacy.

"She's telling the truth," he said to Saphira. He seemed to be disappointed that he didn't have a reason to kill me.

_We'll have to call you something,_Saphira told me. I could tell she was still curious about me.

I shrugged. "Fine, I'll be Dusk."

_Dusk,_ the dragoness mused. _A peculiar female name._

Suddenly, I heard a crash from behind me, and turned. A boy that looked a bit older than me appeared. His dark hair was a mess, with leaves and twigs snarled in it. A buckskin quiver filled with arrows, a bow, and a pack hung on his back, and his light face was covered in sweat. He looked as if he'd been in a hurry.

He looked startled that I was there. "Saphira, what is it? Who's this?" he panted.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, isn't it nice to make your lovely acquaintance," I drawled. "Oh, but I still have no idea where the eff I am or what's going on in this stupid place, so please pardon me for not being pleased by your _graceful_arrival, whoever you are." I emphasized graceful, staring at the crushed ferns that he had left in his wake as I said it.

The boy looked puzzled. "What?"

"I guess your primitive little mind can't process what I just said, so I'll put it simply: _Hurry up and tell where I am and what the hell is going on here_."

He glanced to the dragon, and they must have communicated, because then he turned back to me and said, "Dusk, I'm Eragon."

"Well, isn't that just wonderful," I said. "Very creative name you've got there, by the way, just replacing the 'd' in 'dragon' with an 'e.' Not really, of course, I'm just being sarcastic, right? But I was being sarcastic when I said I was being sarcastic, which therefore means that I'm not being sarcastic at all. But then, that raises the question of whether or not I was telling the truth when I said that, because when you look at it one way, I was telling the truth, and when you look at it some other way, I was lying. I don't really see the point of saying all this crap, though, since you're both looking at me with that blank expression on your face, and the dragon is cocking her head like she thinks I'm crazy, which I very well may be, but that doesn't matter. What matters is, I'm hungry and annoyed, and if you don't answer my questions _right now_, I'm going to this Therinsford place you were talking about to get my answers, and you guys love me too much to let me do that. Savvy?" I was pretty proud at myself for managing to say all that junk so quickly, although I didn't know where the pirate accent at the end came from.

_Very well,_ Saphira said. Eragon made an angry step towards me, but Saphira blocked him with a claw. _Although I didn't hear most of what you said, I did catch the last part. Brom, as storyteller, do you mind answering her?_

Brom scowled, but sat down on a large rock by the stream and answered, "Whatever you say, Saphira. This is the land of Alagaesia..."


	3. Story Time

**Short update. _Very _short update. More filler than anything else. However, before I start, I think I'll answer the reviews.**

_EminemBitches_**: I didn't realize either until I saw the two words really close together. Paolini said it's supposed to be Era Gone By, but dragon's easier to figure out. Oh, and the plot hasn't even started yet. This is all just random filler. The plot actually gets moving the first time you see Grimrr Halfpaw(Is that how you spell it? I'm too lazy to check).**

_Unique Fantasiser_**: No, I didn't copy off of your story. I first posted chapter one on another website on the sixteenth of December, 2010. It's on Hortorian; you can check if you want. And exactly like your story? The only similarity is that both of our main characters have wings and are girls, and even the wings are different. By that logic, I could say that we're both plagiarizing Maximum Ride, which we're not.  
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_RestrainedFreedom_**:**** I'm not going to actually use the word, due to the fact that kids who don't look at ratings get on this site :D  
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_Mini Saphira_**: You're supposed to confused :P I can't get CP's characters right, so you'll just have to make do with a bunch of OOCness.**

"This is Alagaesia," Brom began. "The first creatures to live here were the dwarves, the dragons, and a few others. Nothing changed until the first elves sailed across the sea, from a place called Alalea, and landed here. The elves were very skilled in magic, but they made one mistake: they treated the dragons as animals."

"They are animals," I interrupted. Saphira growled, and I quickly added, "Biologically, like humans, elves, and dwarves."

"Will you let me finish?" snapped Brom. "Now, a young elf hunted down and killed a dragon. The dragons then took revenge and killed the hunter, then began attacking all the elves. The elves tried to explain the misunderstanding, but they couldn't communicate with the dragons. A long and bloody war ensued and lasted for five years. It would have continued until both races had killed each other off if a young elf named Eragon had not found a dragon egg."

"You're an elf?" I asked Eragon, who jumped.

"No, the first Eragon lived a long time before him," Brom growled. "As I was saying, the first Eragon found the egg and raised the dragon in secret when it hatched, and Eragon named the dragon Bid'Daum. The two convinced their races to form a treaty, and, to make sure war would never again break out between them, they established the Dragon Riders. The Eragon standing before you is a Dragon Rider.

"Over time, the humans arrived, and they were added to the bond. One human Rider was called Galbatorix. His dragon was killed by Urgals, and-"

I interrupted him again. "Urgals?"

"Big horned demons that followed the elves across the sea. Anyways, as I was saying, his dragon was killed by Urgals and he demanded the council of Riders to give him another one. They refused, so he slayed a young Rider and took his dragon. He then gathered thirteen Riders about him, the Forsworn, and killed all the Riders and dragons. He then took control and proclaimed himself king of Alagaesia, and his tyranny continues to this day."

"Okay, so let me get this straight," I said. "Basically, fourteen little kids and their pet lizards destroyed the dragons, the dwarves, the elves, and all the Riders, and then forced the humans to serve them? Isn't that sort of, I dunno, lame?"

"Don't speak about things you don't understand," Brom snapped. "They used dark magics learned from a Shade-"

"A what?" I asked, interested.

"A sorcerer corrupted by dark spirits. They used the dark magic they had learned to overthrow the Riders."

"That's still lame," I commented. I was interested by Brom's reaction, he seemed to take my summary of what he had just said as a personal insult, but I was too hungry to pursue it further. "Anyways, I still need food. Any of you have something I can eat?"

"No, we ate all our food this morning," said Eragon. "I'll go hunt if you want."

"Nah, I'll find something," I said. I turned my back on him and was about to cross the stream when I heard Eragon gasp, and I glanced back at him over my shoulder. "Yes?"

"You have wings," he said, pointing in disbelief.

"Didn't your mom ever teach you it's rude to point?" I said lazily, extending my wings as far as they could go.

"I've never met my mom," Eragon answered, his expression sad for a second.

"Oh, now isn't that just grand," I said, not really caring whether I had insulted him or not. "Listen, what's edible around here?"

"We're not eating right now," said Brom angrily. "We still have a full day's march ahead of us. You can eat this evening, like the rest of us. Now, are you going to fly with Saphira or walk with us?"

"I don't know how to fly," I said. "So I guess I'll walk."

"Come on, then," said Brom, as Saphira launched herself into the air, buffeting us with a gust of warm air. "We've wasted enough time as it is."

I scowled, but folded my wings and followed him.


	4. Brom Beats Everyone Up

I flopped down on the ground, exhausted. We hadn't stopped at all for the whole day, except for short water breaks. It was evening now, and Saphira had found a clearing large enough for us to sleep in. She was curled up on one side, opposite me. The bottom of her tail was dripping water from when she had cleared the snow from the ground. Brom was sitting next to her, lighting a fire in the center of the clearing. Saphira had hunted down two deer, one she had eaten, and the other she had brought back for us.

Eragon stepped around me and set about skinning the deer, then he cut the meat into chunks that he wrapped in cloth and stuffed into his pack. He took out a pot and dropped an insanely large lump of salt into it. He placed the pot over the fire, tossed in a handful of snow, and dumped some meat into the mixture. I didn't see how that could taste like anything better than watery venison soaked in salt, but the aroma that wafted from the stew actually smelled nice.

Brom, who had been playing around with three large sticks, suddenly leaped up and tossed one of the sticks to me, another to Eragon. When I looked at the stick, I saw that Brom had fashioned it into a crude sword shape.

"Sword-fighting?" I guessed.

Brom grinned, an action which completely contradicted his personality. Or maybe he was just glad at a chance to beat me up. "Yes. If you're coming with us, you might as well learn too. Eragon, as a Rider, you need to know how to fight. Dusk goes first. Now, defend yourself!"

I stood with the stick in front of me. I wasn't going to underestimate him. If this old guy knew how to use a pretty red sword, a stick wouldn't be too hard at all.

We circled each other. I knew better than to attack first. I was just going to wait until he came for me.

He charged me. I parried his first blow, but his second one hit me in the ribs. I was pretty sure that there was going to be a nice-sized bruise there the next day, but I ignored the pain. Then I began hacking at him like a maniac, all defensive maneuvers forgotten .

"Guard yourself!" Brom shouted as he hit my arm, making me drop my stick.

"Shut up," I muttered, picking up my stick and dropping back into my fighting stance. I started going towards defense this time, only attacking when I had a clear shot.

"No, attack more! You can't win fights with just a shield!" the old man cried.

"Yes, you can!" I yelled back at him, but I began mixing up offense and defense anyways, like he had just told me to. "You just set the shield on fire and chuck it at the other guy!"

Saphira laughed: her lip curled and a low, coughing growl coming from her. _She has a good point, Brom._

Brom growled and began attacking me even more viciously. Finally, when the stew was ready, he announced that my training session was over for that night.

I glared at him as we ate. I was tired, and there were bruises all over my hurting body. There was a nasty cut on my leg, and I licked it between famished mouthfuls of meat stew. Eragon and Saphira were watching me, amused.

"You actually managed to hit me your first time," said Brom, examining a patch of red skin on his arm. He sounded mildly impressed. "You learn quickly. Let's see if you can do better, Eragon. Arm yourself!"

I watched as Eragon was thwacked over the head by Brom and collapsed. Brom emptied his waterskin onto Eragon's head, and he came to, coughing and spluttering. Dried blood crusted his face.

"You didn't have to do that," he said angrily.

"Oh? A real enemy wouldn't soften his blows, and neither will I. Should I pander to your...incompetence so you'll feel better?" Brom picked up Eragon's dropped stick. He held it out. "Now, defend yourself."

Eragon shook his head and turned around, arms folded across his chest. "Forget it; I've had enough."

Brom hit him soundly on the back. "Never turn your back to an enemy!" he snapped. He tossed the stick to Eragon and attacked. Eragon retreated around the fire beneath the onslaught.

It was quite a while later that Brom finally allowed Eragon to get out his blankets. I filched one when he wasn't looking and curled up in it. It smelled like boys, but I was so tired that I didn't care. The last thing I saw before I fell asleep was Eragon's face turning red as Saphira told him something that I didn't quite catch.

I woke up sore and tired the next morning. Brom was already up and cooking some sort of mush. Eragon and Saphira were still sleeping peacefully. I got to my feet and dumped my blanket over Eragon, simply because I was too lazy to fold it and stuff into his pack. Then I sat down next to the fire, warming my cold hands and feet.

"You won't be able to go through Therinsford," Brom said, by way of a morning greeting. "You're barefoot, you have wings, you're an attractive young woman that's just about finished developing, and your clothes are of elven make."

"Really? Elves made these?" I asked, glancing down at my clothes.

"No human could ever produce silk so fine. Now, I was wondering if you could go with Saphira and learn to make use of those wings of yours. It will be safer for all of us."

I shrugged. "Sure, yeah, what the heck? So, we'll just wait for you by the road on the other side?"

"Yes. You wake Eragon and Saphira, we'll leave after breakfast," said Brom.


	5. A Durza Behind Every Bush

Saphira and I watched the two men run off towards Therinsford. Then Saphira turned to me and asked, __You don't know how to fly?__

"Err, no," I said. I got down on all fours and began flapping my wings crazily, but I didn't so much as lift a centimeter off the ground.

The dragoness' eyes glittered mischievously. __Climb onto my back.___  
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>I stared at her. "What?"<p>

__Climb on___,_ she repeated, crouching to let me get on more easily.

"I have a very, very bad feeling about this," I muttered, but I heaved myself into the saddle anyways. I fingered one of the straps. "How does this thing work?"

Saphira didn't answer, just leapt into the air. I grabbed the spike in front of me so as not to fall off.

"Watch it!" I shouted at her. We were rapidly ascending, and the frigid wind was blasting past my face. "I'm scared of heights!"

She replied, laughing, __Good!__ Then she flipped over, and I fell.

"Eff you, you little-" I swore at her. I was plummeting towards the ground at at least eighty miles per hour, and accelerating approximately a lot more per second. I howled, still screeching cuss words at the dragon, who was diving alongside me. We were falling through the clouds, literally, and I was soaked through. I looked down, but I wished I hadn't. The ground was a blur of brown, grey, and mainly green. I couldn't even see the individual houses from my height. "If I die, I swear, I am suing you!" I screamed at her.

__Maybe it would help if you extended your wings a little?__ Saphira suggested unhelpfully.

"Thank you very much for that absolutely __gorgeous__ piece of info, I'm sure, but- Hey, wait, why didn't I think of that?" I snapped my wings open, and they exploded with pain as I was jerked upwards from the sudden movement. I swore some more, but then I realized something important: I was gliding.

__There, that wasn't so hard, was it?__ Saphira said, opening her wings as well so we were flying side by side.

"Oh, shut up already," I growled at her, but I don't think she heard over the wind.

__Are you still scared of heights?__ Saphira taunted.

I swerved and landed on her left wing, messing up her flight pattern and dragging her down. Saphira growled in surprise, then playfully butted me off with her snout. Thus ensued the greatest aerial battle of all time between a human and a dragon. Well, technically, this was the first aerial battle between a human and a dragon, but that doesn't count.

We landed in a clearing a few hours later, and Saphira sent Eragon an image of where we were. We were both panting from our mock battle. I grinned at the dragoness.

"You're not too bad," I said, breathing heavily.

Saphira made her laughing sound again. __Neither are you, human.__

I was about to reply, but then I felt someone hammering away at my mind, and I set up my typical defense. __You are stupid. You are stupid. You are stupid.__ Saphira turned her head and growled at some bushes. Said bushes quivered, and a man stepped out from them.

He was tall and slim, like a twig. He wore black armour, and a red cape billowed behind him in a dramatic semi-superhero fashion. His white face had a bunch of red lines crisscrossing it, and his hair was violent maroon. His fingernails were sharp and black, and in his hand he clutched a thin sword that was marred by a line that cut across the blade. His teeth were filed into points.

"Dude, you need to go easy on the make-up," was the first thing I said.

The man's sneering face twisted into confusion. "You aren't screaming and running away from me?"

"Umm, no," I said. "Why would I do that? You're too ugly to run away from."

"I am King Galbatorix's general, the Shade Durza!" he announced. "Flee before my wrath!"

"Well," I answered, "One, with a name like Durza, it's pretty obvious you're a bad guy, since any name starting with a 'G,' a 'D', or a 'Z' is a villain's name. Two, there's not actually a wrath to flee from, if you get my gist."

"His Majesty wants you," Durza said. "And either you will come with me quietly, or I will have to resort to force."

"'Resort to force,'" I repeated. "That's such a popular phrase with you old people. So, tell me, Durza, how are you going to make us go with you? I'll have to remind you that there's a pretty angry dragoness over there, while I'm an annoyed random person who's too tired to go anywhere with anyone. That includes you. Also, I was wondering something. How can you people even remember that guy's name? It's so long. I think it was Gandrayda or Gabriel or something."

Durza scowled. "Enough talk! Now come with me, both of you."

"You're weird," I commented. "First you're telling us to flee before your wrath, and next you're telling us to go with you? I just don't get you old-fashioned villain types sometimes."

Durza scowled some more, then he shouted some random gibberish, slytha or something. My eyelids drooped, and I began to feel sleepy. Saphira collapsed next to me and snored, her eyes closed.

The last thing I saw before I fell to the ground was the Shade standing there, a triumphant and slightly confused smile on his ugly face.


	6. Cannon Fodder

I woke up with an annoyed groan. I was sitting in a cell made completely of stone bricks, except for one locked metal door with a barred opening in the top, and a window set high in the wall and fitted with iron bars. Sunlight streamed through it, often blocked by moving shadows. I was sitting on a pile of rotten hay. Some jerk had tied my hands in front of me. I had a headache. And I was most definitely not the happiest person in the world.

I set about chewing the ropes off my wrists. I was done after a few minutes of vicious gnawing, and I picked out the strands of rope stuck in my teeth.

"Yo!" I shouted at nobody in particular. "Do you have any Sudoku puzzles? Or maybe an iPod or something? I'm sorta bored around here. You people need to improve your prison quality some. I mean, the department of health would have a fit if they could see this."

See, I was more bored and annoyed than scared. It's sort of hard for me to be scared of a clown who's addicted to make-up, nail polish, and hair dye. I was actually pretty surprised that Durza's sword wasn't covered in red and pink lipstick.

When no one answered, I just started playing with the mice hidden in the hay. Somebody must've gotten pissed off after a few hours of listening to frightened squeals and "Gotcha," because the clown himself came to visit me in my dingy little cell around midnight.

Needless to say, I was absolutely _delighted_ when the metal door opened and white-faced make-up man appeared. Durza stepped in and two guards closed the door behind him. I leaned against the wall, trying to look as bored as possible. It wasn't hard.

"Do you have any crossword puzzles?" I asked him.

The Shade ignored me. "I see you are awake," he said in a smooth voice.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course not! I'm just sleepwalking. Hurry up and get to the point already."

"Very well, if that is how you want it," he said. "Do you know your name?"

"Duh! Who doesn't?" I said.

"Could you tell me what it is?" Durza asked. Man, these people have big personality changes. Last time I saw him, he was a confused moron. This time, his every movement radiated confidence.

"Nope," I answered. "I don't even know it. Well, I'm called Dusk, but that's obviously not my name."

"You just said that you did," Durza said, struggling to hide his impatience.

"When?" I asked with mock surprise. "I just asked you who doesn't, I never said I actually knew my name. You need to get more literal if you want to have a conversation with me."

"How did you get wings?" he asked me. "Were you born with them?"

"No," I said. "I just have them. Got a problem with that, clown?"

Durza gritted his pointy teeth together angrily. He seemed to be searching for a good retort, but none came. "King Galbatorix will be here in two weeks," he said finally, opening the door. "He will deal with you." And on that happy note, he stepped into the hallway outside and locked the door behind him with a click.

The second the door closed, I searched for Saphira with my mind. She was three cells away from me and still asleep. Next, I scanned the underground prison complex for Durza, and didn't find him anywhere. He had probably teleported or warped or something, but as long as he wasn't anywhere near, I was fine.

Now came the hard part. I had never entered anyone's mind before, let alone controlled one, so this might be more difficult than I thought. I checked out the two guards in front of my cell door. One had weak defenses, the other had none. I went for the defenseless one(poor kid) and quickly took over before he even noticed what was going on.

Next I was in completely in control of his body. He had a sword, a shield, armor, and, lo and behold, keys!

"Hey, man," I made him say in a stupid, drunk voice. The other guard glanced at him. "Look over there! It's a Metroid!"

"A what?" the guard I wasn't in control of asked, looking in the direction my guard was pointing at. The next move was easy. I forced my guard to unsheathe his sword and slew the other guy with a single thrust. Then I made him get out his keys and unlock the door. I told him to leave the keys in the door, then made him take his sword out of his buddy and stab himself. He was dead before he hit the ground.

I pushed the cell door open and dragged the two bodies into the cell. Then I took the non-bloody sword out of its sheath, locked the door behind me, and head off down to where Saphira was.

Six guards stood in front of the dragoness' cell. I did the same thing I had done with the two dead men back there, although it was more difficult because once the one I was in control of had killed two of his fellows, the other three and ended his life. Then I had to step in myself and kill the remainder, and believe me, it was not easy, what with my minimal training and all that.

I fumbled with the keys and unlocked Saphira's cell. I heard shouting coming from somewhere nearby; apparently, I had been too loud with my method of killing.

Countless chains held the sleeping dragon down, but with a few whacks from my trusty new sword, I tore them apart. I shouted at Saphira, from next to where I assumed her ears were, "WAKE UP YOU STUPID DRAGON!" I no longer cared whether anyone heard me or not, since, from the sounds of surprise from near my old cell, I had been discovered.

Saphira sprang upright, roaring loudly. "We need to get out of here before Durza gets back!" I yelled over her noise.

She asked, confused, __Where are we? What happened?__

"Does that matter!" I screeched at her.  
><em><br>___Why, no, it doesn't,__ she said. Then she set to work doing what she did best: roaring and breaking down prisons with her nice little claws.  
><em><br>___I'll be back soon,_ _I told her with my mind, since I couldn't be bothered to shout. __I need to check out the armory, they probably have all sorts of goodies in there.__

__Very well, but be quick_,_ Saphira answered. __We do not have much time.__

I took off running the way where there weren't any soldiers. __If I'm not quick enough, then you'll have to come fetch me.____

__I will.__

I stepped into the armory. All the soldiers in the place had been too occupied with Saphira to give me any trouble, so I had gotten free reign of the whole prison. I whistled at the amount of impressive weapons in the room, and set about picking one I liked. I found a long, sharp dagger with a round piece of polished jet as the pommel-stone. I grabbed the the ebony leather hilt, which had been wrapped in black wire, slid it into its matching scabbard, and tied it to my right thigh with a strap of leather. I was about to head back out when I saw two other weapons that caught my attention: an exotic-looking bow and a sword without a sheath. I grabbed them as well and ran out of the room.

__Saphira! Get yourself over here!__ I called. I sent her my location and ran down the corridor. Now that the soldiers had figured out it would be impossible to get Saphira, they would be coming after me. I heard footsteps from in front and behind me, and quickly took out my keys and unlocked a nearby cell door. I closed the door just in time. About thirty soldiers pounded by, yelling and screaming.

I was about to leave, but I heard a soft moan from behind me, and turned.

An elf with long black hair and pointy ears lay on the ground. Her eyes flickered open, and she said weakly, "Help."

__Change of plans,__ I told Saphira. _I'm over here.  
><em>  
>The elf staggered upright just as loud screeching noises came from the ceiling. I knocked the elf out of the way of large chunk of falling rock before she got flattened.<p>

"My weapons," she whispered, and I realised the sword and bow were probably hers. I handed them over, and she put the sword into her belt and slung the bow over her back. "Who are you?"

"Shut it," I said kindly.

Then Saphira's head appeared from a large hole in the roof. The elf stared and took an involuntary step backwards, but I grabbed her arm and lifted both of us into the air. It was tiring to fly and keep hold of her, though, so I took the easy way out.

"Here, catch!" I called to Saphira, and threw the elf lady into the air. Her eyes were wide as Saphira caught her in her claws and climbed into the air. I followed, ignoring the cries of surprise and the archers under us. Their arrows fell back short, and me, Saphira, and the elf vanished into the night._  
><em>


	7. Filler Dialogue Chapter

We landed pretty far away in a forest somewhere. It was already morning by then, and all three of us ladies were pretty tired. But did that stop us from staying awake anyways? No, it didn't.

The elf was the first one to speak. "I thank you," she said. "I am Arya of the Varden."

"The what?" I asked.

"The resistance against the Empire," Arya explained. Then she turned to Saphira and said, "You have grown much since I last saw you. Tell me, skulblaka, what are you called?"

_I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Arya, _Saphira answered. _I am Saphira._

"And what are you called, Rider?" Arya asked me.

"Do I look like I need to ride anything to fly?" I grumbled, extending my wings to show her what I meant. "Her Rider's not here at the moment. I'm Dusk, by the way, both of your saviors. So, Arya, what did you do to make the clown mad?"

"The clown?" Arya repeated in that silky voice of hers.

"You know, Durza," I said. "That's make-up on him, right?"

"No," said Arya. "All Shades look like that. As to your first question, I used to ferry Saphira's egg between the children of the Varden and the elf children of Du Weldenvarden in the hopes that it would hatch for one of them. It was on one of these trips that the accursed Shade ambushed me and killed my two companions. I managed to send Saphira's egg to the Spine before I was captured."

"Dang, your story is better than ours," I said. "We were playing, and then we landed, and then Durza jumped out of some bushes, and then we had this long conversation, and then he shouted some nonsense, and then we fell asleep, and then we woke up in the stupid prison. You wouldn't happen to know where we are, would you?"

"We are near Gil'ead, by the Ramr River," Arya answered.

"Hey, Saphira, where should we go next?" I asked her. "We don't know how long we've been stuck in there, so who knows where Eragon and Brom are right now? And you can't feel Eragon's presence, can you?"

_No, but I do know that Brom mentioned someone called Jeod, _said Saphira.

"I can take you to Jeod," Arya offered. "He lives in Teirm, directly to the west of here. It's a large coastal city that is filled with merchants. Jeod works for the Varden, shipping supplies to them. Everyone in Teirm knows him."

"Wonderful," I said. "How long will it take us to get there?"

"On dragonback, it should take around three days," Arya replied.

"Great," I said. "We leave in the morning- No, wait, it is the morning. We leave whenever we feel like it. Oh, right, do any of you guys have food?"


	8. Sues Will Be Sues

Two Nights Later

_Arya, _said Saphira suddenly. She kept her thoughts limited so that Dusk couldn't hear them. _I am curious about Dusk. She speaks about things that nobody has heard of before, yet does not know of the things that every child in Alagaesia knows from birth. I wonder whether she is from here at all._

They were in the air, flying steadily towards Teirm. For the last few days, they had slept by day and flown by night to avoid detection. It was near morning, and they were just a few leagues away from the city.

_Yes, _Arya agreed. _She is curious indeed. But she can remember naught, if what you say about Brom finding nothing was true._

_She is fourteen, yet did not even know how to fly when we found her, _Saphira mused. _She wears elven clothes, and she does not look like any Alagaesian or Surdan I know of. She herself has certain facial features of an elf, such as those eyes of hers, and her hair is much more lustrous than any human, elf, or dwarf. And there is another strange thing about her: she can guard her mind better than I._

_We will just have to watch her for any clues about her past, _replied Arya. She gazed at Dusk, who was darting through the air ahead of them as a minnow would in water. Arya didn't want to admit it, but she was actually jealous of the girl's carefree manner. Dusk had seen death, she had even killed, and yet she still acted like a child.

"Teirm ahead!" Dusk called out, jolting the dragon and the elf from their separate thoughts. "Land!"

* * *

><p>We landed in the forest near Teirm. We had stolen two black cloaks with hoods the night before from some random travelers. The plan was simple: Saphira would hide outside the city while me and Arya would waltz in, chat with the Jeod guy while wearing the cloaks, and bye-bye Teirm, hello Varden. Saphira was worried for Eragon, but we had all agreed that if he had any sense(which he probably didn't), he would come here and talk to Jeod, since merchants like him were bound to know things others didn't. Then Jeod could just pass on the message and we would all meet at the Beor Mountains, which were, according to Arya, Empiretabooland.<p>

After we waved good-bye to Saphira, me and Arya put on the cloaks and headed towards the gates of Teirm. See, apparently most humans have a grudge against wings and pointy ears, so we had to wear the stupid things to hide them. And the weather on the coast was way too hot for winter, so I was sweating like crazy under my cloak.

The city was one of the weirdest things I'd ever seen, not that that's saying much. But seriously, whoever designed the place had a strange since of fashion. There was this humongous citadel in the northeast corner. The buildings by the fortress were really tall, but not as big as the castle, and as they went out, they got lower and lower. All the roofs were perfectly flat. The city walls were pretty tall, a white wall a hundred feet tall and thirty feet thick. Two portcullises, one facing the western sea, the other open to the southern road, were raised. We were going through the one in the south.

At the entrance, there were quite a few guards. They blocked our way with long pikes.

"Whaz ya name?" asked one of the guards.

_Let me do the talking, _came Arya's voice in my mind.

"I am Sarah," said Arya. "This is my cousin, Elaine." I felt like telling her that Elaine was a terrible name for me, but that would bust our disguise right there, so I kept my mouth shut with some difficulty.

"Whaz yer business 'ere?" the guard said in a thoroughly bored tone.

"We are here to visit a friend," said Arya. Her tone of voice said something that her words didn't: _Get out of my way right now or I will make you pay._ The soldier seemed to notice the danger he was in, because he nodded vigorously and let us through without any further inquiries.

"So, where's Jeod?" I asked her.

She waved a hand in the general direction of the taller buildings. "He owns a large shipping company, and lives in the richer part of the city."

After a while of walking through the streets with the grey stone houses standing grimly on either side, the house quality began gradually to improve, and the people began wearing more expensive clothing. Then we stopped in front of a shop that looked completely out of place, one with a cheery little sign hanging in front. A short woman with curly blond hair was sitting in front of the door. She glanced up when we walked towards her. I was about to ask Arya whether she had gotten it wrong, because I was pretty sure Jeod was a man and not an herbalist, when Arya spoke.

"Angela."

The woman's face lit up into a smile. "Are you Arya?" she whispered.

Arya nodded curtly, and Angela's smile widened. "Come in, come in," she said, setting her chair in front of the shop and beckoning them in.

The shop was dark and smelled both fresh and musty at the same time. Candles lit the whole place. Crystal orbs, cards, herbs, teacups, and other random stuff were set up on shelves on the walls. A large black cat lay on the counter at the end.

I didn't know why, but I reached out to the cat with mind, and, to my surprise, I got a reply in English.

_Hello, _the cat said, stretching. He yawned, then turned to me and said, _You know Arya?_

_You're not a cat, are you? _I said.

The cat blinked at me. _I am a werecat. You may call me Solembum._

"Hi, Solembum," I said, stepping forward and stroking him. He purred.

"Who's your companion, Arya?" Angela asked. She sounded surprised.

"This is Dusk," said Arya. "Dusk, shed your cloak and let her see."

Solembum sat up as I took off the cloak and stretched my wings, careful not to knock anything over. Angela gaped at me.

"Wha?" she finally said. I put my cloak back on. Angela shook her head. "Arya, Jeod is in the house to the right. I'm sure he'd love to see you. I'd like to speak to Dusk in private."

Arya walked out silently, leaving me alone with Solembum and Angela.

"Now," said Angela. "I'm going to offer you something that I've only ever offered two other people. I'm willing to read your fortune. Your real one, mind, not the one I do for all the rich fool ladies out there."

"Why?" I asked.

"You have wings," she said. "And Solembum likes you. That's rare, almost as rare as a winged human. I'm only going to offer once, take it or leave it."

"Take it," I said hastily.

"Are you sure?" Angela asked, raising her eyebrow. "One of the people was driven insane by their future."

"Yeah, yeah, hurry up," I said.

Angela smiled grimly, then offered me a chair in front of the counter. I sat down, and watched as Angela went through a door in the back and came out later carrying a pouch. She sat down opposite me and tipped the contents of the bag onto the counter. They were bones, inscribed with runes.

"You're a grave robber?" I asked her. Somehow, I wasn't too surprised.

"No," she snapped. "These are the knucklebones of a dragon, very magical." Then she tossed the bones into the air and said, "_Manin! Wyrda! Hugin!_" The bones landed all jumbled together. I didn't get how anybody could read them. However, after a few minutes of staring at them and muttering under her breath, she shook her head again. "You have a very interesting future."

She pointed at one bone, one with a circle with a line crossing it. "Infinity. I don't know whether this means you'll live forever or for a very long time, but your lifespan will definitely be over the normal."

"Wonderful," I muttered, and she glared at me.

"Now, this one here," she said, pointing at a ship with a stone blocking it. "You will leave Alagaesia but return later on."

"No surprise there," I commented. Angela ignored me.

"You will notice that the ship rests on the moon, a magical symbol. That states how you will leave: by magical means. And that one over there, the dagger, means that you will kill an important person."

"Delightful," I said dryly.

"And the crown," said Angela, pointing at another bone. "You will change the world."

"This is the worst," Angela told me. "The wandering path. You will have to make many hard choices. Yes, you have a very interesting life indeed."

I stared at the bones. "Ouch, I'm not going to be a very happy person then."

Then Solembum said, just to add to my wonderfully joyous little future there, _When your mind and body fail you, go to the God of the Grey Folk, and it will show you a way to win. To return to your homeland, the mad king must be defeated. When you wish to come back, you must defeat the mad king a second time, or look for another one._

"Ever heard of the phrase, 'Tis the season to be jolly?' Guess you haven't, then," I said. My mind was racing with the things Angela and Solembum had told me, but I simply stored it away to study later. Everything would make sense when it happened. Until then, I would just be kept wondering. "Well, thanks for that interesting experience," I said, standing up. "I'll be off then."

Solembum leapt onto my shoulder and stayed there as I left the shop and turned right to Jeod's house. An annoying butler opened the door and led me to a room filled with books. Arya and Jeod were sitting at a table in the center, and they both looked up as me and Solembum walked in. The butle bowed and closed the door behind me.

"Ah, and this must be Dusk then, and I see the werecat is with you," said Jeod. His eyes were haunted, and there was a scar on his face. His grey hair and expensive clothes were all rumpled, as if he had been sleeping in his clothes. His expression reminded me of Angela's when she had finished telling my fortune.

"You people like stating the obvious too much," I said. "Last time Durza told me that I was awake."

Jeod's mouth lifted into a small smile. "Sit down, sit down," he said, offering me a chair. I sat in it.

"Hey," I said, "You wouldn't happen to know who the God of the Grey Folk is, would you?"

"The God of the Grey Folk," Jeod mused. "I'm sorry, I've never heard of him."

_Did you say him or it? _I asked Solembum.

_It, _he replied.

"It's an it," I told Jeod.

"I never knew that the Grey Folk worshiped anyone," he replied.

"Great," I said. "So, Arya, when do we leave?"

"Now," said Arya, standing up abruptly. "We have much ground to cover if we are to get to the Varden before the Empire sends soldiers after us, because somebody has surely seen Saphira when we flied."

Jeod sighed. "It was nice to finally meet you after this long, Arya. Good luck. If Brom and Eragon come, I will tell them where you have gone."


	9. At the Varden

"So, how are we gonna get to those nice little mountains of yours?" I asked Arya. We were outside Teirm.

"The Hadarac Desert is the quickest way. If we fly there, it should take us about four days, because we will have not have to worry about being seen," she answered. She was leaning against Saphira's neck with her eyes closed.

_How will we get water? _Saphira asked.

"Hey, yeah, good question."

"I have methods," Arya replied. "We will not have to worry about thirst whilst we are in the desert."

So, simply to spare you from unnecessary boredom, I'm just going to tell you the short version. Keep a map next to you, yeah? So, we went over the Spine and spent the rest of the day getting to Furnost, where Arya and Saphira went for the lake and I went for the town. Well, no, I actually went for the food in the town, but it's about the same thing. So, anyways, we slept around Furnost, some moron saw us and recognized us from the wanted posters, we had a fight with some soldiers, then we flew into the desert and got ambushed by around forty Urgals. They were like, I dunno, eight feet tall each. Arya blasted them to bits and we ran off. It was the evening of the second day when we saw the mountains(they were _huge, _I tell you, comparing them to the Spine would be like comparing a tree to an ant), and noon of the third day was around when we got to the foothills. Me and Saphira fell asleep, I didn't know what Arya did, she didn't ever seem to sleep, and we woke up around evening and flew through the night. We stopped at this pond called Kosta-something. We slept some more and right now it's noon of day four. We're standing in front of this waterfall by the lake.

Arya shouted some gibberish at the waterfall, and the waterfall split into two smaller ones as a large piece of rock slowly slid out of the mountain. A stone circle twelve feet thick that had been behind the waterfall slid to the side to reveal a thirty-foot high hall lit with these little lantern things and lined with guards.

"You're joking," I said flatly. "Are you telling me that these Varden people live _inside _the mountain?"

_How long did it take them to carve this? _Saphira asked in amazement.

"Hundreds of years," Arya said. "These mountains are all linked by similar tunnels that lead between the many dwarven cities and villages, providing easy passage. These mountains are the greatest masterpiece of the dwarves. Come now! We do not want to keep them waiting."

"Oh yes we do," I muttered. I followed Arya as she gracefully leapt into the hallway. Saphira came after us, and I noticed that the guards all scooted as far away from her as possible.

The door slid closed behind us and the waterfall returned to normal. We were shut inside, and I felt an annoying sense of claustrophobia, even though the place was so frickin' big.

"Halt," said a bald guy in purple gold-trimmed robes who stood in the dead center of the hallway. His voice echoed around the vast hall. "Who are you, and what is your business here?"

"Hi, baldie!" I said cheerfully. "We're these random people, and we don't have any business here. Kindly shove yourself over to the wall, otherwise I might just keep annoying you."

Arya shot me a glare. _Let me handle this_. Turning back to the baldie, she said, "You do not want to anger me, Twin. I have important news for Ajihad."

Twin(gosh, these people have weird names) blinked, then said, "I must first approve the dragon and the girl."

"Listen to the elf, kid," I said. "You don't want to end up like those Urgals back there in the desert. Now _move it._"

The guy shook his head stubbornly. "Orders are orders. Either you let me examine your minds or you will not pass."

Saphira stepped forward and prodded Twin in the chest. _Are you sure you want to examine _my _mind? _She projected the thought out to everybody in the hall, and the guards all jumped, as if they didn't think she were capable of speaking English.

"Oh, just let me deal with him already," I growled, pushing past Saphira. I attacked his mind with this annoying song that I just couldn't get out of my head, but I couldn't find any weak points in his defense. Nothing like a good challenge, though. I created a few grenades from the song and began taking down his walls large chunk by large chunk. His face beaded with sweat as he tried to keep me out, and he clapped his hands to his head as each grenade exploded and sent the stupid song into his head, but I finally managed to get a large enough hole for me to get in. I darted through before he could close it and began sifting through his memories. I found a few interesting ones, like where he was talking to this dude with a beard and a black dragon. There were quite a few memories with the beard guy, the dragon, and another baldie that looked exactly like him, and I stored them into this safety deposit box in my own mind. Then I retreated back out of the hole I had made. All of that took me around thirty seconds.

I grinned at Twin. "Who's the black dragon?" I asked. Twin backed away as if he were scared.

"What?" Arya asked sharply.

"He has some interesting memories," I said. I sent them to Arya. Her eyes narrowed.

"Come, Twin, Ajihad will want to see this. You," she said, pointing at a guard. "Take us to Ajihad."

We followed the guard through what felt like a few miles of tunnels, all of them lined with gold and jewels and statues and all those other shiny little thing, and occasionally Twin would try and run, but Arya would say some nonsense and he would stop. Apparently, those memories I had stolen from him were pretty important. Anyways, most of those tunnels were huge, so Saphira only had to duck her head in some of them. We even went through this city in the mountain made completely of marble and lit by lava in this big crater way beneath us, and a lot of random humans and dwarves came out to stare at Saphira. We crossed this huge place, like, way too huge, a few hundred feet across at least, with this big rose-shaped gem in the ceiling. Four halls led off from the place, and we stopped at a cedar wood door at the end of one. The guard knocked, and a deep voice boomed (dramatic much?), "Come in."


	10. Brum the Badly Named Dwarf

We entered this two-story study with a bunch of cedar bookshelves. An iron staircase spiraled up to the second floor, where there was a balcony with two chairs and a table. One of the chairs was occupied by this lady with dark skin who was reading a book. The stone floor was covered by an exotic oval rug. At the end of the room, this guy stood behind a large walnut desk.

His skin was black, and he was bald with a nice beard. He wore a purple shirt covered by a red vest embroidered with gold thread. He looked like the kind of people you see in the boxing ring on television. This dude who was completely identical to Twin stood next to him.

"Arya, and the blue dragon," he said. These people always seem to forget me. He waved a hand at the guard, who bowed and ran off. "What a pleasant surprise."

The elf didn't waste any time on pleasantries. She shouted some random words at Twin's twin, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious. "Ajihad," said Arya, "these two are traitors. They have been passing information on to Galbatorix."

"What?" asked Ajihad. "How do you know of this?"

"Open your mind, Ajihad. I must show you something," Arya said.

Ajihad hesitated, but nodded. I saw his eyes narrow, and he glared at Twin. "Guards," he cried. About twenty armed men ran in immediately from a back door. "Take the Twins and execute them. They are traitors to the Varden and have been found to be passing information to the Empire."

"What the heck," I said, as the twenty random people dragged the Twins out, one of them screaming for mercy and the other still unconscious. "Dude, seriously. We just came in here and you ordered them to be executed? You need to work on your first impressions some more."

"And you are?" asked Ajihad.

"This person," I said. "No, really, don't worry about me, just go ahead and do whatever you normally do. I'll just be standing over here and annoying you peeps."

"Please sit," he said, gesturing at a few leather armchairs. I plopped down on one, but Arya remained standing. "Now that the Twins are going to die, there are not many that can take their place."

"Du Vrangr Gata," said Arya.

Ajihad nodded slowly. "They will have to do, despite their lack of knowledge of the ancient language. I will send word later. Now, Arya, I would like you to tell me everything that happened since you were attacked."

"There is not much to tell," said Arya. "We were ambushed by the Shade Durza and his Urgals. I managed to send Saphira's egg away before they captured me."

"Saphira?" asked Ajihad.

_Me, _said Saphira.

Ajihad nodded some more. "Go on."

"I was drugged and put in a prison in Gil'ead, then tortured for information. They did not learn anything from me. Months afterwards, Dusk and Saphira rescued me and we escaped to Teirm. From there, we headed to Furnost and to the Beors." She said all of this in a really toneless voice. Bleh. Elves.

"Am I correct in assuming that you are Dusk?" Ajihad asked me.

"Wrong," I said. "I _am _Dusk, I'm not _assumed _to be Dusk. And, before you ask, I'm not Saphira's Rider. Her Rider's this little idiot that's running around with a paranoid grandpa."

"Saphira, do you know where your Rider is?" asked Ajihad.

_No, _Saphira answered. _Dusk and I were captured by Durza near Therinsford. We did not know how long we were in Gil'ead, and we did not know where Eragon and Brom had gone after we escaped with Arya._

"That will make things difficult," said Ajihad, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I will send people out to bring Brom here as soon as possible. Meanwhile, Saphira, you can stay in the dragonhold above Isidar Mithrim, and Dusk, you can stay in one of the guest rooms."

"Is the dragonhold open to the sky?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Great, I'm staying there as well then," I said. "I don't like houses."

Ajihad didn't look too happy about that, but he agreed anyways. "I'll let Brum take you two up. He will take you to up to the dragonhold. Brum!"

A dwarf that was just a bit higher than my elbow entered from the front. He had a hammer tucked into his belt and looked as bored as I did, which is saying something.

"What is it?" he asked in a gruff voice.

"Could you be a guide for Dusk and Saphira during their stay here?" said Ajihad. It was more of a command than a request.

"The dragonhold and the guest rooms?" Brum asked.

"No, just the dragonhold," Ajihad replied.

Brum looked mildly surprised by this, but nodded and turned. "Come on," he said.

"I expect you're hungry?" Brum said as we entered the big room with the jewel.

"Yeah," I said. My stomach growled in unison with Saphira's.

Brum turned to look at me. His eyes lingered on the dagger I had gotten from Gil'ead.

"Could I see that?" he said.

"You are seeing it, but if you mean holding it, yeah," I answered. I pulled the dagger out of its sheath and handed it to Brum. He examined it for a moment, than gave it back.

"That blade is made of the same material as a Rider's sword," he said, leading us down one of the halls. "Where did you find it?"

"The prison in Gil'ead," I said.

Brum said nothing else. He led us through the city and into a large cave with many stone tables and seats. A bunch of dwarves and humans sat there, eating plates of mushrooms and meat. They turned to stare at Saphira when we came in, but turned away as if they were scared she might eat them if they stared at her for too long.

"You two can stay here," Brum said, leading us to a table. Saphira curled up around it and I sat down on one of the stone benches. The dwarf vanished into another cave and came back later holding two plates of food. Two men came behind him, dragging a huge piece of raw meat.

The two people dumped the meat in front of Saphira and ran off, and Brum sat down next to me. He put one of the plates in front of me and began tearing into his own food. The dwarf and I started up a race to see who could finish first. I won by about two seconds and burped triumphantly. Saphira laughed.

Brum took the plates back before leading Saphira and me through a bunch more tunnels. We followed him up these stairs that seemed to last forever. Finally, we emerged in the dragonhold.

The dragonhold's floor was the big rose jewel we had seen earlier. It was insanely thick, and when Saphira walked on it, she didn't leave a single scratch. The dragonhold itself was a round roofless room sixty feet across and sixty feet high. Cave openings of varying size were dotted all along the walls. We came out of an arched entrance and stepped directly onto the big gem.

"You'll find that all of these caves have been furnished for a dragon and Rider each. If you need anything, ask someone for me and I'll come," said Brum. He turned and ran back down the stairs. I got the feeling he didn't like being in the dragonhold.

"I'll be in that one," I told Saphira, pointing at a tiny hole towards the top.

_And I will stay there, _Saphira said. She flew into a tunnel just large enough for her body about twenty feet above the gem.

I shrugged and launched myself towards the hole. It was so small that I had to crawl on my belly to get in, but it widened at the end into a decent sized cavern. There was a bed at the end and a large dragon-sized cushion. Don't ask me how they got those things inside, or why they put in a bed for a dragon when it was pretty obvious no dragon could get in. A dim red lantern had been stuffed into the wall.

I dropped onto the bed and fell asleep immediately.


	11. The Stupid Toilet Inn

**I know the distances aren't correct, and nobody should be able to travel as fast as these people do, but Christopher Paolini didn't put a scale on the map of Alagaesia, and I don't have a copy of Eragon with me to check. Meaning, of course, that I'm in charge of all the distances and stuff, so no complaining about Dusk and everyone else traveling too quickly. Yes, I"m being lazy and cheap, why do you ask?**

* * *

><p>We've been at Farthen Dur for the last week. The dwarf king, Hotgart or something, wanted to meet with Saphira a few days ago, but of course he didn't care about me. I've noticed something really weird about my wings: you can only see them when I'm using them, when you touch them, when I'm extending them, when someone else tells you about them, and when you've seen them before. Well, no, it's not that nobody can <em>see <em>them, it's more that nobody _notices_ them. So, basically, the only person on the mountain who knows I've got wings is Saphira. If Hoigardo and Ajihad knew that I had wings, I'm sure that they'd be much more interested in me. Stupid idiots.

There's still no sign of Eragon or Brom. I'm not complaining, but Saphira's worried. She doesn't eat as much as she should, I have a feeling she doesn't sleep too much, and she's completely stopped talking. Sometimes she leaves the dragonhold to look for Eragon, but she always comes back after a few hours just as sad as before. She's worried about Eragon, and I'm kinda slightly worried about her. Ajihad's banned both of us from leaving the Beor Mountains, but that is not gonna stop me. Therefore, I'm leaving right now, and unless he's got another flying human up his non-existent sleeve, he won't be able to do anything about it. Heck, he doesn't even know that I can fly, so he'll be scratching his bald head wondering how I got out of the mountain without anybody noticing.

I flew out of the dragonhold, directly north, over this lake and a river, turned west when I left the mountains, and kept on going for the rest of the day. There wasn't anyone in the big valley we had come from, so I passed it and headed southwest. Day two saw me at Furnost. I checked to see if anybody had seen an old guy with a boy, and the answer was no. Then I headed over to Melian the next day, and this bar owner told me he had seen them pass by, a boy with gloves and an old man with silver hair. Obviously, that was was them. So I had to turn around and check out Cithri, and nobody had seen them. Next, I went to Petrovya, and they hadn't been there. So then I flew over to Furnost _again_ on the morning of the fourth day to see if they had been there.

As I flew over the lake Tudosten, two dark shapes rose up into the air from the west shore. They were both flying towards me, I could see their wings. One cloaked figure rode each of them. As the four creatures got closer, I saw that the flying ones had beaks, and they only had skin, no feathers or scales or anything. I turned to face them and hovered there.

"Hi," I called out. "Watcha doin'?"

No response. They just kept coming closer.

"Hey, did you know it's nice to return a greeting?" I asked lazily. "'Cause you people are really rude in that way, see. And I'm bored. And would you people hurry up and get over here already? Hovering above a lake is annoying, cause the water messes up all the air currents. And you chaps will either get yourselves over here or I'll be leaving."

One of the winged ones and its rider stopped a few fit in front of me. The other circled behind.

"It's nice to face who I'm talking to, you behind me. And when did you guys brush your teeth? I mean beaks. You smell like rotten meat." Aren't I just so nice?

"What are you?" asked the rider in front of me. He had this strangely annoying voice.

"A human," I answered. "And let me guess, that thing you're riding is four-legged vulture with all the feathers plucked out, right?"

The flying thing hissed and lunged at me, but I dropped down towards the water. This place was pretty cliché, so I had known perfectly well that those things were bad guys the second they had left the shore. It was still pretty fun to insult them, though.

I plunged into the clear water and came back up behind all four of them, then zoomed towards Furnost. I looked back and saw that the flying things were having trouble. They obviously didn't like water, or the air above water. I stored that knowledge in the back of mind for later use and continued on my way, whistling.

I ducked into the lake near the docks and walked up onto the shore. The nearest tavern was this place called the Fluffy Rock, and the owner always seemed to know everything that went on in Alagaesia.

The owner told me that Brom and Eragon were staying at an inn called the Black Dragon. I thanked him and wandered off. It turned out the Black Dragon was two houses over from the Fluffy Rock, so I had no trouble finding it. The owner of the inn, however, wasn't half as nice as the guy from the tavern. I had to give him a black eye before he told me where Brom and Eragon were. They had gone to the Quacking Moose(these places have really stupid names), a bar two streets away. I then tromped off over to the bar, went in, and saw Eragon and Brom sitting with a boy with a hammer and a boy with a weird sword-thing.

So, yeah, I sat down over at Eragon's table. That triggered a pretty strong reaction from his two buddies. Both of them pulled out their weapons, but Eragon stopped them.

"Dusk?" he asked incredulously. "What are you doing here? Where's Saphira?"

I rolled my eyes. "Dusk isn't a question, so kindly refrain from putting a question mark there. Also, Dusk is a proper noun, and is therefore not a complete sentence, so there shouldn't be a punctuation at all. As to what I'm doing here, I'm looking for you. Saphira's in Farthen Dur."

Brom glanced around nervously, then hissed at me. "Be quiet!"

"Shut up," I said. "We need to get to the Beors and-" Something prodded me in the back. I sighed and turned around to see the two hooded figures from Tudosten standing behind me. "Hey, yeah, I'd love to chat with you guys, but now's not the time. Maybe tomorrow?" I told them.

"You and the others must come with us," the one that had poked me said in his hissy little voice.

"Oh, isn't that just fabulous," I said. I stood up. "Listen, we have some business over at that place, whatsitsname, the Stupid Toilet." Okay, so that was a really dumb name, but if there were places called the Fluffy Rock and the Quacking Moose, then there was bound to be some place called the Stupid Toilet. These innkeepers are worse at naming stuff than _I _am, seriously.

I pulled out my dagger and randomly waved it at one of the hooded dudes, who dodged easily. I took the chance to push between them and raced out of the Quacking Moose. Remembering that the person I had come for was still in there, I peeped my head back in and called to Eragon and co., "Run, you morons!"

They took the advice and shoved their ways past the bad guys. The hooded people hissed in surprise and ran after us. They were much faster than we were, and I guessed that they probably weren't humans. I took the easy way out and flew into the air. The two hooded guys gained on their quarry. Brom turned and slashed at them, and they sprang out of the way. Then Brom went back to running.

I was about to think of helping when I heard wingbeats from behind me, and spun around. One of the flying creatures from earlier was coming at me. Then I heard a shriek from behind, and glanced back. The other one was charging at me from behind, and this time there wasn't any water to dive into.

The most common and most effective thing ever popped into my mind, and I waited for both of them to get closer. When they were about to slam into me, I dropped down to the ground, and they almost hit each other. But they seemed to be smarter than the average featherless four-legged vulture, because one of them manged to veer below its partner before they could collide.

I cursed at them some and ran.


	12. And We Go Diving Into Lakes

Great, there's two featherless four-legged vultures, two hooded figures, and a hundred soldiers after us. The vultures and all of the archers, that's about forty soldiers, are after me, and the sixty remaining soldiers as well as the ones with the hoods are going after Eragon, Brom, Random Kid One, and Random Kid Two.

I was trying to get to the water, but the vultures kept on blocking me, and then the archers would start shooting. I'd already gotten hit by three arrows, two through my left wing and another one in my right leg. I tore the arrow out and grimaced as pain shot through my leg. Still, having a huge piece of wood buried in my leg didn't hurt as much as I'd expected. Maybe because this is cliche-land and I'm one of the invincible main characters.

"Here, catch!" I called, and sent the arrow flying at one of the vultures. The piece of steel-tipped wood hit its back and bounced off.

The archers fired another volley of arrows at me. I tried to fly above their range, but the other vulture stopped me. None of the arrows hit me, though, and I managed to catch one in my hand. Take that, you trained soldiers! I stabbed it into the vulture's stomach. It screeched and fell to the ground, flattening four archers underneath its body.

"Five down, thirty-seven more to go," I said.

Another wave of arrows flew at me, and again I tried to escape upwards. The other vulture grabbed me in its talons, leaving bloody scratches on my arms. I struggled, but its grip was completely merciless. It was obviously peeved at me for injuring its mate.

I stabbed my dagger up into its neck, and a fountain of dark blue-green blood gushed out of the wound. The vulture-bat tried to scream, but the only sound that came out was a small gurgle as a blood bubble popped out of its beak. Its beady black eyes went blank, and it fell, dragging me down with it in its death grip. I pulled the dagger out of the beast's neck and hacked at its claws, trying to make it let go. Just as I was about to slam into the ground, I managed to release its hold on me and darted away.

I sheathed my dagger, making the inside of the scabbard wet and sticky with blood. Then I dived into the really big lake that was conveniently sitting right next to me.

* * *

><p>I dragged myself onto the east shore of Tudosten, coughing and spluttering.<p>

After washing the dagger and its sheath, I stood up and turned towards the forest.

Then the ferns in front of me began waving, and I pulled out my dagger. The weird sword guy that Brom and Eragon had been talking to in the Quacking Moose came out from behind them. I should make Durza a verb. Everyone likes jumping out from behind bushes now.

The guy asked, "Where did you go to while we were running?"

"Does that matter?" I asked. "Right, where are we going?"

He didn't respond, just led me over to the southeast part of the woods.

"You have _got _to be kidding me," I said flatly when I saw why he had brought me there.

A bunch of green and grey tents were bunched together. The people without tents were huddled underneath blankets that had been draped over tree branches. There were around three hundred people there, mostly men and boys, many of which were wounded. They looked up when we neared them, but quickly relaxed when they saw the boy I was with.

We ducked into a blue tent larger than the others. Eragon, Brom, and the hammer guy were already sitting inside.

"Dusk," said Brom. "Good, you're here." I noticed that Eragon, Brom, the hammer guy and the weird sword guy didn't even have a single injury between them. At least I had a (very slightly) injured leg and some scratches.

"Where did you go while we were running from the soldiers?" Brom asked.

"Oh, nowhere important," I said sarcastically. "I was just being chased by forty archers and those two flying bat-vulture thingies. But don't worry about me! After all, how could I _possibly _compare with how much pain you people went through? It was just forty-two bad guys after one me, while sixty-two bad guys were after you three hundred something good guys. Yeah, no problem here, not to mention the fact that I got hit by an arrow, and I got my arms scratched to pieces by that damn bird thing. At least I killed it, though."

Brom started. "You killed a Lethrblaka?" he asked in disbelief.

"The bat-vultures? Yeah," I said, licking one of the scratches on my arm gingerly. "I nearly got the other one too. They need to learn not to go above someone with a Rider metal dagger."

"Where's Saphira?" Eragon asked urgently.

"That dwarf place," I said. "With the Varden."

The hammer guy interrupted us. "Who are you? What is a Lethrblaka? What do you mean, you have a Rider metal dagger? Who is Saphira? You know the Varden and the dwarves?"

"I think you had better start off from when you and Saphira vanished, Dusk," said Brom.

"Before that," I said, "I need food, and I need whatever you people here put on scratches. Then we can just head on over to the Varden and be happy."


	13. She's Thinking! It's a Miracle!

I was sitting in an elm, my back to the upper trunk and my legs on a large tree limb. There were so many stars in this place, it was almost like it was day, but with a different light. More of a slivery glow than the blinding gold of day. I liked the nights here.

This lady called Gertrude(cliche name for a healer, if you ask me) had rubbed some goo onto my scratches. I wasn't too happy about that, but it did feel better afterwards. And she must have been completely blind, because she didn't even see my wings.

Then I had told Brom, Eragon, Roran(the one with the hammer), and Murtagh(weird sword guy) everything that had happened since Saphira and I had been captured. Roran had punched Eragon in the nose when he heard that his little cousin was a Dragon Rider, breaking it and giving him a heavy nosebleed. Family issues.

Brom acted a bit strangely when I showed him my awesome dagger. He had muttered something that sounded like "andlat" and his eyes had gotten a sort of hungry look in them. I think he needs to eat more stuff if he thinks a dagger looks yummy.

Eragon had wanted to go to Farthen Dur right then, but everybody else was against that idea. Plenty of people had gotten wounded by the hooded figures, which were called the Ra'zac, and the soldiers. Not to mention me. According to Brom, the Lethrblaka, which were the things that had attacked me, were the Ra'zac's parents. I didn't get that, since the Lethrblaka were frickin' humongous and they had wings while the Ra'zac looked like humans, but if the great expert deems it true, then okay. And also, Brom told me I hadn't really killed a Lethrblaka, just wounded it into a coma for at least a week, which is still awesome.

Then I had asked what so many people were doing in the woods. Apparently, Carvahall(stupid name, it's almost like Build-a-Bear), this village way northwest, the one Roran and Eragon had come from, had been attacked by the Ra'zac after Gabriel figured out that Eragon had a cousin up there. They had burned the place to the ground and Roran had led the whole village over to Teirm. Jeod had told them that the Varden lived in the Beor Mountains, and the whole village had set off towards the mountains. They had met up with Eragon in this place called Drat, Lona!(seriously?) and had decided to run around together. The Ra'zac had tracked them all the way here, and then I had met up with them.

We made plans to get across the desert after that. On foot, it was around three or four days. Brom and Eragon would use magic to get water. I had checked them for magic wands, but Eragon explained that magic was using gibberish to direct energy towards something. I thought that was pretty dumb, but if it'll get water for us, why should I ever care?

So right now I'm just sitting in a tree and being bored.

I closed my eyes and dozed off.

* * *

><p>I woke up after everyone else. Most of the people had already finished packing their stuff and were gazing out to the desert. I seemed to be the only person who wasn't worried about crossing all of that hot yellow sand. I also seemed to be the only person who could get across the place in less than a day.<p>

I stretched, then jumped onto the ground. A few random little kids were passing out food, and I took some. It was wet bread and salted meat, but I ate it all down in twenty seconds. I noticed that everyone else was eating theirs slowly and saving some for later in bags and pockets. Dang it; why didn't I think of that? But the food was all gone now, and that was that. I shrugged.

"Dusk!" someone called. I turned and saw Murtagh running towards me. "Brom wants you to tell the Varden we're coming."

"'Kay, on it," I said.

"How are you going to get to them before us?" Murtagh asked. His face was red, probably from sunburn.

I gathered myself to jump. "Watch and learn, kiddie. I'll be back in two days at most." I launched myself into the air. Murtagh gasped behind me, and I heard some people yell and scream and do all that other stuff non-flying humans do when they see a flying human. I ignored them and winged my way towards the not-so-distant mountains.


	14. The Convenience is Painful

I've already crossed this part of the desert twice, so I knew the lay of the land pretty well. I really regretted not saving that food for later, because I was starving almost from the second I started flying. I guess it comes from having six limbs, two of which are absolutely humongous. So I just glided down to some random cactus with a bunch of fruit growing from the top.

Cactus fruit is really, really good, except it's got a ton of red juice in it. My hands looked like they had been splattered in blood when I took off again, but hey, food is worth it.

The good thing about being able to fly from Furnost to Farthen Dur was that I didn't even need to take the long route into the valley and then go through all of those stupid tunnels. All I had to do was just find the places where the mountains were short and cut through them. It took me a few hours to get through the mountains, since all these random hungry creatures kept attacking me, and since I kept on needing to stop for wild veggies and water, but I got through okay. Another good food on the go: clovers. They taste really good as long as you don't pick the bitter ones with the deer pee on them.

I got into the valley a little after noon and followed the Beartooth River into the heart of the mountain range. I had stayed in Farthen Dur long enough to know where its approximate location was, and I headed towards where I figured the mountain was.

It was evening when I heard a loud roar off to my left. I turned and hovered. Flying towards me was Saphira.

_Where have you _been_? _she screeched. The dragoness' blue eyes were blazing.

"Err, haha, yeah," I said. "About that, see-"

_Spit it out! _Saphira roared.

"Eragon's over there," I told her flatly, pointing in the general direction of the desert.

Her anger and anxiety turned to confusion. _What?_

"He's over in the desert somewhere," I said. "Shouldn't be too hard to find, considering he's brought three hundred people with him."

_Explain, now, _she growled.

"Oh, he'll explain," I said vaguely. It's so fun to leave people hanging. "By the way," I said, "was Ajihad mad I left?"

_Yes. He sent out search parties to look for you. He was afraid you had gone to Galbatorix._

"Gandrayda? Nah, I was looking for Eragon. Apparently, the Varden's contacts and the people they sent out to find him have trouble recognizing four shady guys, one a really old guy and the other three boys around sixteen, followed by the whole village of Carve-a-Hall."

_Where is he? _Saphira asked urgently.

"On the path to Furnost," I answered "You can go off now, I'll catch up once the Varden know they're coming."

Saphira grunted and winged her way west. _Farthen Dur is the mountain to the left. Be careful with the dwarves and Varden as well. They are...not pleased by your disappearance._

"Oh joy," I muttered. I turned left and headed for that conveniently located hole in Farthen Dur's side, which led into the dragonhold.

"Oh, great," I said when I landed at the entrance of the hole and looked down at the pretty rock that made up the dragonhold's floor.

There were around ten people standing around on it, a mixture of humans and dwarves, but all the dwarves hung out near the stairs, as if they couldn't wait to race back down to Tronjheim, the marble city way down in Farthen Dur.

I figured it would be a pretty bad idea to go down right then, especially if what Saphira had told me about the Varden and dwarves suspecting me of being a spy was true. I really hoped Arya was in Tronjheim right then, since she still owed me for saving her life.

"Why do I not have a piece of paper when I need it?" I muttered, looking around me. As if on cue, a small piece of paper and a feather dipped in ink drifted in front of me. My mouth dropped open. "Never mind that, I _do _have a piece of paper when I need it."

I scribbled out a note on the convenient piece of paper using my convenient quill that just so happened to be conveniently dipped in convenient ink.

_Cavahal com wid rider 0pen gats 4 dem_

_ps_

_u suk ajihad_

I thought for a moment, then crossed out the postscript so that it was still readable but obvious that someone had "tried" to get rid of it. I wrapped the paper around around a small stone and dropped it into the dragonhold.

Everybody in the dragonhold noticed the note and ran over to it. My message had gotten through, so I shrugged and took off.

The journey back to Eragon and all his little buddies was much quicker than the journey to the mountains, since Carve-a-Hall had already covered quite a bit of ground during the day and a half I was gone. They'd already gone about a quarter of the distance they had to cover.

The expected screams came from below me as I flew over them. Saphira was flying around near the rear of the crowd with Eragon on her back. I went over to them.

"Right, so the Varden know you're coming," I said.

_How did they react when you went back? _Asked Saphira curiously.

"Oh, I just dumped a note into the dragonhold," I told them. "Also, I'm not going back to them with you guys."

"What?" asked Eragon. "Why?"

"I kinda insulted Ajihad in my note, so yeah. Tell Brom and Murtagh and Roran and all those other big leaders down there later, 'kay? Also, don't tell Ajihad who wrote the note."

"You're leaving now?" Eragon said anxiously. "And who's Ajihad?"

I rolled my eyes. "Are those two questions related? But yeah, I'm leaving now. See ya!"

With that, I ran. Actually, I flew. Gah, whatever, I did something. But I ran. No wait- Never mind.

There was someplace I needed to go. I think it's called Uruk-hai or something. It starts with Uru, anyways. I think it's Gabriel's capital. But yeah, I had to go there for whatever reason that I didn't know.


	15. There's an Elf Named Fritos

I decided then, on the way to Furnost, that I was either crazy or insane, or possibly both. The Ra'zac and the Lethrblaka were probably still in town. Last time the Lethrblaka had underestimated me; if we met again, I didn't stand a chance. But I needed supplies, and the only place nearby was Furnost. Or I could go the long way around, from Petrovya to Cithri to Melian to Dras-Leona(turned out it wasn't Drat, Lona! after all) and then to the weird place that started with some sort of throat gurgle, but I was in a hurry.

Then there was the throat gurgle city itself. It was the Empire's capital, the place where Gabriel(or was it Gandrayda? I could never remember) and his black dragon, Shrew Can, lived. I was guessing that, since they had managed to take over Alagaesia with nothing but their twenty-six minions, all of which were now dead, that they were pretty strong. But the summons came from there, and I would go with the flow, throwing myself onto the doorstep of the two most powerful beings in the land in the process. Ah, the joy of getting myself killed.

I dropped into Tudosten and walked out on the shore. Everybody had already packed up and scrambled back to their houses by then, so no-one saw some random girl drag herself out of a really big lake in the evening.

Going to either the Fluffy Rock, the Black Dragon, or the Quacking Moose would be just plain stupid, since I'd been there before. I found a quiet little inn called the Silent Breeze(finally, a name that makes a bit of sense) at the north end of town.

After spending a few coins I'd "borrowed" from the Varden a few days back, I got a good night's rest and decent food. I bought a pack in the morning, stuffed a new black hooded cloak into it, and filled it with food, then slid it over my back in a way that wouldn't mess up my wings. Then I headed for Uru'baen.

I saw Uru'baen from two miles away, and I was forced to find the road and walk. The city was humongous. It was in a grid formation,with each building perfectly spaced from the others. A great black castle rose from a big hill in the center, looming over its neighbors like a storm cloud. Other, smaller citadels were scattered all over. A large wall, forty feet thick and a hundred and fifty feet high, encircled the ominous city, with archers prowling along all sides of it and places that jutted out from the top of the wall, probably to dump stuff down from. A moat surrounded the place. I didn't see any farms either, which probably meant that they were also in the wall. When I asked someone, he told me the city got its water from wells and springs inside(not the moat after all), and all the water sources were checked every few hours for poison. In short, the place made Teirm look like a dollhouse.

I put on a black cloak with a hood before I got back onto the road. Hey, what can I say? I like having an aura of clicheness.

I arrived at the only gate a half hour later. It was an arch, about seventy feet high, with a big black iron portcullis above it and about a billion murder holes above it and a barbican that made it harder to get in. Six soldiers stood at attention along the neck of the barbican, and two men in long purple robes with large daggers put into their identical gleaming golden belts stood guard by the entrance.

The guards let everybody pass by without questions or any of the things they did back at Teirm. I soon knew why. The men with purple robes seemed to be magicians; I could feel them probing at my mental wall. When neither of them could get past my barriers, they began a full-out assault. I gritted my teeth in concentration. I could easily handle just one of them, but the two of them together were quite strong.

When I had nearly gotten past the entrance, one of them shouted, "Halt! You, the one in the black cloak, stay where you are."

As if. I did the natural thing: I ran. Then the other magician yelled, "Letta!" My body froze in place. I growled and tried to move my legs, but they wouldn't respond. Stupid magicians, why did Galby have to be so paranoid?

I turned my head and saw four soldiers and one magician walking towards me. "I'm doomed," I muttered.

Then somebody from the city called out in a musical voice that was kind of like Arya's, but rougher, "Blahblahblah!" At least, that's what it sounded like. It was a bunch of gibberish, anyways.

My body started listening to me again and I ran for where the voice had come from, which was behind a house right next to the wall.

I found some guy perched on a crate behind the house. . He had short blonde hair and flashy green eyes, and his body was thin and graceful. His big noticable pointed ears told me he was an elf.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him. The pursuing soldiers soon got left way behind us as the elf led me through the city, jumping over things that were too high to be jumped over and running around through hidden back alleys. I had a feeling that he didn't leave the city very often

Twenty minutes later, we were on the southern side of the city, opposite the gate. I was panting from our run, since my legs weren't used to running anymore, but the elf stood silent and erect, his breathing normal and his face like a statue's.

Once I had recovered, I followed the elf into a small stone house that looked like just like all the others on the street. Even the inside of it was common and ordinary. A small stove stood in one corner with a pot on top, a table with two teacups and two chairs were in the center of the house, and a bed was by the door, which the elf quickly closed behind us. The only thing out of the ordinary was a black cloak like mine sprawled on the bed.

The elf waved a hand absentmindedly at the pot on the stove and said some more gibberish. The pot, which was suddenly filled with boiling tea, lifted into the air and poured the tea into the two cups on the table before setting itself back onto the stove. The elf sat down at one of the chairs and gestured for me to do the same. I sat.

"So, human, what did you do to provoke the guards?" the elf asked. He took a sip of the tea and frowned.

"I dunno," I said. I didn't bother asking why an elf was in Uru'baen. If he didn't tell me, I wouldn't ask.

"Ah," the elf said. "You are against the Empire?"

"I don't really care, actually," I said. I tried the tea and spat it out again. The guy may be an elf, but he made horrible tea.

"Does it taste bad?" asked the guy, almost sounding a bit worried.

"Like crap," I told him. He frowned and dumped all of the tea out of the window.

What are you called?" he asked, sitting down again.

"Dusk," I said. "You?"

The elf hesitated, then replied, "You may call me-" I didn't catch the last word, because it was completely unpronounceable.

"Can I call you Fritos?" I asked. "It's way easier to pronounce."

"If you must. If I may ask, what brings you here to Uru'baen?"

"Yeah, you may ask, seeing as you already did. As to why I came here, I haven't got the slightest clue."

"You...do not know?" Fritos asked curiously. He pieced the words together carefully, like English was his second language.

"Mm hmm," I answered. I would have given him some sarcastic reply, but he had just saved my life, so I decided to be nice to him. For now, anyways. "So, why did you decide to help me back there?"

"I was told to watch out for you," said Fritos.

"Really. Some guy told you to watch out for a really cliche kid?"

"...Something along those lines. Your clothes, they are lamarae," said the elf. "Elf-made, correct?"

"Yup. By the way, Galby will know you're here now if he didn't already," I told Fritos.

"Galby?" questioned Fritos.

"Gabriel, Genesis, whatever that guy in the castle's name is."

"Galbatorix," Fritos sighed. "Yes, he will, and that is most...unfortunate. But it can't be helped. He would have known soon even if I hadn't shown myself."

"Thanks for the help," I told him, standing up. "But I have to leave now."

"May I come with you?" he asked.

"Sure, why not? That's two people that Galby wants to catch, one of which is a conspicuous pointy-eared elf and the other one's got wings. What's not to like?" I said, shrugging.

"Nobody else can see your wings, is that not so?"

"How'd you know?"

"As I said, I was warned that you would come. Let us have lunch first," Fritos said. "Then we can leave."


	16. He Can Burn a Salad

Lunch was a big plate of salad and eggs to share, no meat at all. And Fritos wasn't the best cook ever, the food didn't taste all that great. How do you mess up boiled eggs and raw veggies? I have no idea; ask Fritos, he can tell you.

When we had finished, Fritos cleared the table with a few words and a sweep of his hand, then he put on a hat to cover his ears with.

I opened the door and we walked outside, onto the street. Something told me to go in one direction, so I did.

About twenty minutes later, we came upon a tavern. The Royal Gardens was a dingy little place, with moth-eaten curtains, a sign that hung by one corner above the rotten wood door, and the smell of month-old splat coming from the stalls. I didn't see how it could be royal, but at least the name was better than the Quacking Moose, even if it didn't exactly fit the dirty old place.

However, the inside of the place was filled to the brim with soldiers, drinking and fighting and shouting. It seemed the Royal Gardens was popular with the military of Uru'baen.

It wasn't the type of place I would go into normally, but the same feeling that had led me to Uru'baen told me to sit down in the corner. Fritos followed my lead. He didn't look nervous at all about being trapped inside a place that smelled worse than the sewers with what seemed to be most of the army.

Five minutes later, I knew I had come to the right place. There was shouting from outside, and all the soldiers scrambled out, leaving just me, the barkeeper, and Fritos. Then two soldiers and one important-looking guy marched in, followed by the crowd that had just left the bar. The two soldiers were dragging someone behind them.

The prisoner was a boy around my age with a mischievous face, which was obscured by a forest of neck-length black hair. His hands were bound behind his back, and his ankles were tied together. A piece of cloth had been stuffed into his mouth. His clothes were the same as mine, except they were dark red and covered in blood. He was unconscious, naturally.

The things that caught my attention, though, were his bright red wings, which were identical to mine. Luckily, the soldiers didn't seem to have noticed them.

"Who dis tramp, sir?" asked one of the drunk soldiers who didn't seem to know how to talk.

The important-looking guy smirked. "He was making trouble at the entrance. Got all the way over here before we caught him."

One of the people carrying the boy grunted and heaved the prisoner onto a table with the help of his partner. "But, Captain," he said, "won't His Majesty want him?"

The captain shrugged. "Later. I want a few drinks first."

I whispered to Fritos, "Can we take them all on?"

Fritos did a quick head count. "Sixty seven. Yes, we can. Is the boy the reason we came?"

"Yes. Can you see them? Look at his back."

"He is like you."

"Right. If Galby gets him, it'll be bad. At least, I think it would be."

He said some more gibberish. "No reinforcements will come to their aid if we attack now."

"Let's go then."

Fritos and I stood up simultaneously. The soldiers finally noticed us and a few of them turned.

"Who are you?" the captain asked suspiciously.

Fritos said something, and the captain fell to the floor, dead.

It took a few seconds for the drunk soldiers to comprehend what had just happened. Then they pulled out their swords and charged at us, roaring.

Fritos didn't have a weapon, but he quickly fixed that but killing a soldier with a word and stealing his sword. Then he attacked the soldiers like a tornado, using magic and the sword to wreak havoc amongst the screaming men.

While the soldiers were busy getting themselves killed, I ran over to the table and cut through the boy's ropes with my dagger, then pulled out the gag. I shook him vigorously, but he seemed to be a really deep sleeper, because I couldn't wake him up.

I turned around to see that Fritos had already wiped out most of the soldiers. There were still about twenty left, but they took one look at the dead bodies on the ground and ran.

Fritos ignored them and the bartender, who was cowering behind the counter.

"We must leave now," said Fritos, turning to me. "Once those soldiers call for help, they will bring many magicians with them, and possibly even Durza, the Shade."

"Alright then," I said. "You take him," I gestured at the kid, "and leave the city. I'll distract Galby."

"Don't die," said Fritos, not sounding very worried. "Where will we meet later?"

"How about the north side of that big lake up by Gil'ead?"

The elf then ran. I walked outside and saw him zooming down the street like a motorcycle, except without the smoke and noise.

I flew into the air, ignoring all of the screams that followed from the random people down below, and then I just hovered there, doing my best to attract attention. I think I was doing a pretty good job of it, too.


	17. And This is Why You Shouldn't Go Flying

Some random black dragon rose up from a hole in the top of Galby's black castle that sealed itself the moment he left. He was so large, he probably could step on Saphira and not notice. He had ivory white spikes and claws, and smoky grey horns that made him appear even more menacing. His eyes were the same color as his scales, both gleaming ebony.

Shrew Can flapped lazily towards my general direction, and I spiralled downwards, then pulled up and flapped furiously towards the road to the north. I looked over my shoulder and saw Shrew Can gliding after me, looking really really bored.

"Shoot," I muttered. The dragon's glide was faster than my panicky flight.

Just when he was about to catch up to me, a bolt of lighting dropped down from the sky and hit him.

...I'm not even kidding. A bolt of lighting. On a cloudless blue day. Without any thunder. Happened to come down and light up the big black lizard. Had that been a thunderstorm, it would've been believable. The thing is, though, it wasn't a thunderstorm. It wasn't even raining. It was just a perfectly normal cloudless blue day.

Neither of us reacted. I just kind of blinked, more stunned by the lack of thunder than anything else. Shrew Can was looking at the sky in disbelief. Then his nerves recovered from the shock and he reeled back, roaring in pain and screaming profanity. I winced and set up a mental wall to try and block out the words, but it didn't work. Who knew dragons could swear so well?

"Ow," I muttered, rubbing my ears. "That was painful."

_Of course it was painful!_ Shrew Can roared. _I was just hit by a lightning bolt, in case you had not noticed!_

"No need to be so loud about it, jeez," I said.

Then there was another flash of lightning. Shrew Can screeched even more loudly this time, and I ground my palms into my ears to try and shut out the sound. The dragon must've been trying to drive me deaf.

_Are you doing this?_

"I wish!"

_How is it getting past my w- Argh! _There had been a third streak of lightning. This time Shrew Can turned around and fled back to the castle.

"Now that was just beyond coincidence," I said. I looked up at the sky. "Thanks, whatever helped me out!" There was a rumble of thunder. So the sky was on my side. That was always a good thing.

Whistling, I zoomed away from Uru'baen.


	18. The Bugs are Watching You

He was sleep-gazing. That was the name given to the elven version of sleeping, with his eyes open and his senses alert, but his mind resting. If he had been fully awake, he would have noticed her when she was a half mile away, but it so happened that she landed in the dead of night.

His name was Rillon. He was young, barely forty years old. His body still glowed with the golden aura of all elf children, although it was now just a shadow of what it had been a mere ten years ago. In another five years, it would vanish completely.

He had lived his life in Osilon, a small out-of-the-way city. He had learned reading, magic and swordsmanship at the age of ten. Being the only child in the whole city then, he had received special care and attention during his education, making him more intelligent and powerful than many other elves, most of whom had been been raised with at least one other child.

It was his first month of guard duty. All elves must guard the forest at least six years in their long immortal lives. Simply to get it over with, Rillon had volunteered to guard the forest by the lake Isenstar. The lake was guarded by three elves. Rillon guarded the west edge of the northern shore, one of his partners was in charge of the center, and the third watched the east. As it was, all three were sleep-gazing, since even in the realm of dreams, they were quite alert to the outside world.

Rillon had his view blocked by a tree, so he didn't see her overly dramatic crash-landing onto the sandy ground that was more ocean beach than lake shore, considering Isenstar was one of the three largest lakes in Alagaesia. It was only when a bat flapped by him, screeching ultrasound, that he was jolted out of his dream state. The first thing he did was send out his mind to search for anything abnormal. He wove his way through the maze of sleeping plants and nocturnal animals, then turned back and scanned the lake. He noticed, almost immediately, the impenetrable mind by the lake. A human, but with exceptional mind defenses.

Silently, the elf stood up on the tree branch he had been resting on and silently leapt to the edge of the giant forest that was Du Weldenvarden. A young female human lay on the ground in a deep sleep. She was wearing a black sleeveless shirt and shorts, both made of the elven fabric lamarae. A dagger with a black hilt and scabbard was on her lower right leg.

The first thing Rillon did was contact Islanzadi. All the guards had orders to tell the queen if there was a single thing that wasn't normal. This was certainly something out of the ordinary, since the ordinary typically consisted of absolutely nothing happening.

He whispered a few words, and an image of the queen's face appeared on the bark of the tree. Queen Islanzadi had eyebrows slanted upwards, bright red lips, and pure black hair tied back with a diamond diadem resting upon it. She carried herself proudly, even more so than most other monarchs.

"Astra esterni ono thelduin, may good fortune rule over you," Rillon said, touching his bottom lip with two fingers in the typical elven greeting.

"Atra du evarinya ono varda, may the stars watch over you," Islanzadi said, likewise touching her cherry-red lip.

He twisted his hand until a peculiar position by his waist. "Un atra mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr, and may peace live in your heart."

The queen nodded, then asked in the ancient language, "What is it, Rillon?"

"A human," he answered.

"Just one?"

"Yes, a young female, about fourteen or fifteen years of age."

"What is she doing on this side of Isenstar?"

"...Sleeping. Her mind is well protected, and she wears lamarae."

"How and when did she get there?"

"I am not sure when or how, but she seems worn out. She doesn't look like she swam across the lake, but nor does it seem like she walked along the shore."

"Ah." There was a pause. "Do not show yourself unless she enters the forest. If she does, capture her. If not, watch her and report to me every two hours until she leaves."

"Yes, Islanzadi Drottning," Rillon said, then he released the magic that allowed him to communicate with the queen and turned back to face the lake. The sun was already showing over the horizon, and Rillon put his back against the tree and watched.

* * *

><p>I had this annoying feeling that I was being watched. It definitely wasn't the trees, since they probably didn't care about me unless I started hacking at them with a chainsaw. It wasn't the buggies either. At least, I figured it wasn't the bugs. I <em>hoped <em>it wasn't the bugs. Do you know how creepy it would be if there were _bugs _watching you, with their big bulging buggy eyes? Yeah, creepy, I know.

So, now to bring you up to speed. It's the morning of the day after the day when I escaped Shruikan. In other words, it was the morning of the second day I had spent away from the stupid oversized flying lizard. I mean, really, who gets scared away with insults? That thing was really anticlimactic when you think about it.

Well, anyways, I had flown through the night, then stopped at Bullridge sometime in the morning and gotten a bunch of food. Then I had slept for a few hours in an inn. Some soldiers woke me up around late morning, chased me out of town, and then I had flown off. I got to Gil'ead about, when? Evening. Trust me, I was _infinitely_ glad to see my old buddies the Ra'zac there, but I had to leave before we could get together and talk about the good old times, like when I sorta nearly murdered their parents. Seeing as their flying parents were somewhere else, there wasn't much they could do but glare and hiss as I flew across the lake.

Yeah, so, right now, I'm hungry. And it just so happens that Du Weldenvarden, which is this insanely large forest, is next to Isenstar. And as far as I know, forest equals food. Therefore, I'm going into the stupid forest. I'll stay near the lake, though, since Fritos still isn't here yet, but he should know that I'll get bored pretty quickly and wander off. If he doesn't, then that's his problem.

I was thinking of drinking at the lake, but then I saw all the birds flying around above it and thought better of it. I did not want to spend three hours retching and gagging because I had swallowed a bunch of eagle splat. They're decent birds, yeah, but their poop isn't halfway as majestic as they are. I turned my back on the lake and walked up the shore.

Du Weldenvarden's about half a mile away from where I had landed. Under normal circumstances, I would have flown, but my legs needed the exercise, and I had only just noticed how tired and sore my wings were. Besides, I still felt like there was something watching me.

Ten minutes later, I was standing in front of the trees(yes, I'm a slow walker). I was about to go into the forest, but then I saw a shadow dart into the topmost branches of the tree in front of me, so fast that I almost missed it. I was about to pass it off as a squirrel, but then I remembered the last time I had assumed something. Namely, when I thought Brom was a fox and got a sword at my throat as a result.

I was still pretty sure that it wasn't anything important, but I decided to check it out anyways. I reached out with my mind and felt resistance from a mind that was similar to Arya's and Fritos'. Great. Curse my luck.

"I know you're there," I said in a monotone, rolling my eyes.

Just like I had expected, someone responded in the musical voice that I had come to associate with elves, "Do not take another step, human. If you value your life, turn back now."

Being the rebellious little jerk that I was, I took another step.

I only had time to put my hand on my dagger before an elf jumped down from the tree, his sword touching my neck.

"Meh, I hate elves," I muttered.

"I warned you," the elf said flatly.

"You know what?" I said. "Screw this."

I jumped backwards before the elf knew what I was doing and flapped my wings. I was already above the trees when I heard someone cry, "Letta!"

My wings froze, and I plummeted. Luckily, I wasn't too high up, just a few inches above the taller trees. I dropped like a stone through the leaf canopy, the branches whipping in my face, my arms and legs flailing around. I managed to grab onto a tree limb, and my left arm felt like it was being pulled out of its socket as I came to an abrupt halt. Cursing, I pulled myself onto the thick branch and lay there. Whoever it was had released the magic, and I was able to fold my wings against my back.

I looked up and saw an elf crouching calmly in front of me, looking completely relaxed, a weird glow surrounding his body. He was holding a strung bow, with the arrow pointing at my face.

"I really really hate you," I told him.

Just then, the first elf jumped onto a branch next to the one we were on.

"Blah blah," the first elf said. He had long glistening black hair tied into a ponytail and bright green cat-shaped eyes. He said more gibberish.

"Blah," the one with the bow replied, not taking his golden eyes off me. "Blah blah blah."

The elf with the ponytail, who looked like he was order than the glowing one, nodded mutely.

I rolled off the branch and landed on the forest floor on all fours. I immediately leapt up and tried to run deeper into the forest, but the younger elf said again, almost lazily, "Letta."

"Eff you," I said, trying to get my limbs to respond. They were stupid and didn't. "Can't you stupid little elves lay off on the magic for once?"

The elves landed gracefully next to me. The younger one dropped his arrow into the quiver on his back and put the bow in next to it.

"So, human, what were you doing by Isenstar?" he asked. I decided to call him Shiny until he told me his name.

"What's it to you?" I snapped at him.

The other elf(I'm going to call him Fluffy) said, "Let us not waste any more time here."

Shiny held up a hand in the universal gesture for "wait." "Ah, but human, we are the ones with the magic. You would do well to answer us."

I had to hold back the urge to tell him that I had the Force. "I was waiting for someone, 'kay? Happy now?"

"Who?" Fluffy asked.

"Fritos," I answered. The two elves gave me blank looks. "You know, that elf in Uru'baen?"

Fluffy said something unpronounceable.

"Yeah, whatever you said."

"He was coming to meet you here?" asked Fluffy.

"Who is Heoufgehbfigfarkfhkrrfhi, Loshar?" Shiny asked. Okay, so Fluffy was Loshar. Got it.

Loshar shook his head. "Not now."

Shiny shrugged, then turned back to me. "What are you called?"

"Hi," I said.

"You are called Hi," Loshar said flatly.

"Hi."

Loshar shook his head hopelessly. "Are all humans like you?"

"Hi."

"I do not think we are getting anything else out of her," Shiny said. "We should go."

Loshar nodded agreement. He whistled, and three white horses materialized out of the trees.

"Get on," Shiny told me, releasing the magic that stopped me from moving. I thought about making another run for it, but I wasn't in the mood to get magicked again, so I clambered onto the horse nearest me. It whinnied and shifted uncomfortably.

"Hold your hand in front of her nose," he said, and, with nothing better to do, I did that. The horse sniffed me, then snorted and licked my hand. I drew it back.

"Letta," Shiny said, and I was stuck again.

"Spammer," I said irritably. "Besides, how the hell am I supposed to ride a horse if I can't move?"

Both elves ignored me. They hopped onto the remaining horses, and Shiny released the magic again.

"Don't try anything," Loshar warned me. "We'll be behind you the whole time."

"Stuff it," I growled at him.

Then the horses set off, ambling in what I assumed was the right direction.


	19. Ninja Piggy

**The pig in this chapter was originally a wolf, and the way it got past the guards was very different, but I went through and edited it to suit the pig, since wolves are way overused and deserve a rest. The pig does help considerably with the humorous aspects of the story, if I do say so myself.**

* * *

><p>Galbatorix was sitting in front of his desk in his study. It was a rectangular room two hundred yards long and one hundred seventy yards wide. The enormous desk faced out a window that dominated the whole wall. He had laced the window with protective spells and wards, so he had no fear of attack. Two of the walls had built-in bookshelves filled with thousands of books. The remaining wall was plain, with a large oak wood door. A large coffee table sat in the center of the room, with an even larger black silk cushion next to it. Plush leather armchairs and sofas were scattered all over the place. A white rug so thick that you could almost bounce on it covered the floor. It looked way more modern than a room in a medieval castle ever should.<p>

Shruikan was curled up on the cushion. He and his Rider had not spoken ever since the dragon's rather embarrassing failure two days ago.

_I wasn't expecting there to be lightning, _he said suddenly, making Galbatorix jump.

_That was completely random, yes, but still! If we continue failing, whatever the reason, then our people will think of us as fools, _Galbatorix responded sullenly, like a five-year old who had just lost his favorite teddy bear. _There have been more rebellions rising up in the last two days than there were in the last decade!_

_You destroyed Yazuac and Carvahall first, _Shruikan argued.

_Well, yes, I did, _his Rider admitted. _But I only did that after they started rebelling. _At Shruikan's look, he said quickly, "Yazuac wasn't rebelling, fine, but some of them were helping the Varden! I just told the Urgals to go up there and kill all of their informants. I didn't know they would kill _everyone_!"

_You are meant to consult me before doing_ anything_, you complete moron. It was your own bloody fault those Urgals misinterpreted your orders. And whose genius idea was it to send all those Kull up to Carvahall, demanding Roran Garrowson? Certainly not mine. If it had been me, I would have sent a diplomat or two and maybe around three honest and trustworthy soldiers. They would have said, very politely, that Garrowson had been summoned to the palace, and that he would be compensated for his troubles when he returned, and they wouldn't have gotten the entire village involved. See how much better that is than threatening them with death for the men and slavery for the women and children?  
><em>

Galbatorix had to admit, that _was _a much better idea, and Shruikan knew that he knew. But he certainly didn't want to admit it, so he said,_ At least I wouldn't throw a tantrum if the servants gave me a roasted cow instead of a smoked one._

_That's got nothing to do with it, and you're not a dragon, _Shruikan snapped. _We at least care about what we eat, unlike your race._

"At least my race is still alive," Galbatorix muttered.

Shruikan's tail started twitching, and he knew that was time to stop talking. Whenever the dragon's tail began waving back and forth, it meant he was irritated, and Galbatorix knew better than to be the Rider of an irritated dragon.

Just then, the big mirror that Galbatorix kept on his desk for communications purposes seemed to ripple, then Durza's face appeared in it.

"Your Majesty," he said smoothly. "I have learned the whereabouts of the people of Carvahall."

_Tell him we don't have all day, _Shruikan told Galbatorix. He couldn't use telepathy to communicate with a person who wasn't actually there.

Galbatorix ignored him. "Where?" he asked.

"With the Varden."

"Alright," Galbatorix said, then swept a hand above the mirror's surface. Durza's face vanished, and it was just a normal mirror again.

_The Varden have just had their numbers boosted up by three hundred, _Shruikan commented.

"Worrying, isn't it?" the King said. Then he suddenly remembered something that he had told himself to do the day before but which he had completely forgotten about over the course of the night.

_I was going to tell you, but you were still mad at me for_ _getting struck by lightning multiple times in a row, which I had no control over_, Shruikan said irritably, _and it was your wards that allowed them through in the first place._

Galbatorix glared at Shruikan, then turned back and murmured a scrying spell, with a few words of his own mixed in. The mirror flickered again, but this time it showed something completely different.

It was a picture of the winged girl who had gotten away Shruikan. She was riding an invisible horse, judging from the rocking motion. Her surroundings were completely white. She was saying something.

"I'm hungry," she complained.

There was the sound of someone sighing. Both Shruikan and Galbatorix recognized the voice as that of a male elf. "We should gag her," the elf said in the ancient language.

Another elf, also male, responded in the same language, "But she does provide interesting company. I was going to ask you something as well. Who is...je?"

"I shou...about hi..." the other elf answered.

The image became blurred, and the voices distorted.

"Speak Eng...you?" the girl asked. Then the image vanished completely, and the voices with it.

_That was not very informative, _Shruikan said after a pause. _What happened at the end?_

"I can get past the elves' anti-scrying spell at the edges of Du Weldenvarden, but not too far in. They are deeper in the woods now than I originally thought," Galbatorix answered. _Now that's two new threats to deal with, possibly three._

_Oh? And what may be the third one be? _Shruikan asked.

_One of the elves asked who someone is, _Galbatorix said. _It may be a threat._

_Or he could have just been asking an innocent question about someone he hasn't met before, _said Shruikan, rolling his eyes. _Stay with being stupid and leave the paranoia and planning to me, alright?_

Galbatorix pretended not to hear.

As Galbatorix and Shruikan were talking, another creature was slinking through the black stone castle. An unwanted visitor.

The figure was on four legs and was clothed in darkness, so that it seemed nothing more than a shadow. The creature was obviously trying its best to be stealthy, but if it hadn't had the magic muffling its footsteps, it would have been extremely loud. The many guards and soldiers it came across noticed nothing, just a wisp of smoke. A wisp of smoke that oinked and nuzzled affectionately against them, sure, but still a wisp of smoke. The magicians' minds slid around the thing's consciousness like a river parting around a rock. Only the stronger of the magical beings could have detected it, but of those there were none in the castle right then besides Galbatorix and Shruikan, and both of them were busy right then.

The thing found the stairs and ran down. Galbatorix's castle wasn't all that it was made out to be. The thing wondered how the Varden had not managed to rescue every dragon egg all those months ago. But then, Morzan had still been alive back then. He wasn't now, not anymore. Brom had seen to that. Besides, the dragon eggs weren't what the creature was after.

It found itself in a stone corridor illuminated by torches that were stuffed into brackets on the wall. The place was heavily guarded, with all forms of magic-users as well as soldiers. Nothing was allowed down there besides the King, not even a puff of smoke, for lining the walls were iron bars and tiny unfurnished cells that reeked of nasty, stinky things. These were the prisons of Uru'baen, from which no prisoner had ever escaped. That was subject to change.

There was suddenly a loud clanking noise from behind the creature. It turned and saw an empty suit of armor dancing crazily down the steps. The magicians and soldiers stared at it disbelievingly for a moment, and the creature took advantage of the distraction to go around them. It trotted down the corridor, and none of the guards it passed noticed anything. Finally, it reached the end of the prison and turned to face the cell at the very back. It oinked and tapped the lock on the cell thoughtfully. Then the pig turned and trotted away. It returned a few seconds later, dragging behind it a sword and the unconscious body of a guard. It took the sword in its two front feet and bashed away at the lock with it, and the sound of the shouts and dancing armor covered the sounds of the sword against the lock. Finally, the door swung open.

Slumped against the back wall of the cell was a boy, roughly four feet tall if he had been standing. He was wearing a leather vest and a rabbitskin loincloth. He had a small, pointed chin and wide cheekbones. His eyebrows were slanted upwards and his eyelashes were long and dark. His silky but roughly-cut black hair hung low over his forehead and fell to his shoulders behind him. Two fingers on his left hand were missing. Numerous scars slanted across his dark brown skin.

His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow, but the moment the locks were destroyed, his slanted green eyes flapped open.

The boy stood up shakily, gripping the wall for support. The pig ambled in and allowed the boy, who was around a foot taller than it, to lean on it. The boy swung his leg over the pig's back and lay down on it, his head resting on the its neck.

The pig turned and nudged at the boy's face in a friendly manner, then turned and ran back out of the cell and out onto the first floor, dodging around the armor. The moment it went past, the armor fell to the ground, leaving the guards baffled. It thought Galbatorix needed to improve his security, but it couldn't really blame him. The amount of guards was actually more than enough to kill most people, even a good amount elves, but Galbatorix hadn't guessed that there was another great force in the world, much more powerful than he or anyone else was. The pig happened to be temporarily working for her.

It was supposed to meet with - well, it couldn't pronounce the name - and sneak out of the city with him, but certain complications had arisen, and Unpronounceable had been forced to leave Uru'bean first. That wouldn't complicate things at all.

It did not take very long for the pig to stroll out of the castle and then the city of Uru'baen, Grimrr on its back. All anybody ever saw of it was a wisp of smoke that oinked and nosed at people's hands, looking for treats.


	20. Well, Except for the Dead Fox

**Just so you know, every time there's a big long string of random keyboard mashing, that's Fritos' actual name, but since it's completely unpronounceable, everyone gets it wrong every time. That doesn't stop some people from trying, though.**

* * *

><p>"Ono eru néiat velkommen hawn, Feruisfbjryfgvefvksfhvgwkfg, you are not welcome here," Pelrin, the third elf guard by Isenstar, cried in the Ancient Language. He was standing on the limb of an oak tree, undisguised hatred on his face.<p>

"I merely come for news," Fritos responded, gazing calmly at Pelrin. It was slightly after noon of the day when, although he didn't know it, Grimrr had been rescued. "Tell me what I wish to hear, and I will leave."

"Swear it in the ancient aanguage, and I will speak to you for a bit longer," Pelrin hissed.

"If that is what you wish," Frjals said. "Taka eka du hugin eka lysta eom hávr un eka atra eitha, give me the knowledge I wish to have and I may leave."

Pelrin's eyes narrowed. Fritos had said it so quickly that he hadn't heard it properly, and he wasn't sure whether Frjals had said atra, may, or wilae, will. Finally, he decided that it had been wilae and nodded slowly.

"Was there a human girl here sometime in the last two days?" Fritos asked.

"Yes," Pelrin said stiffly.

"Where is she now?"

"Rillon and Loshar to her to Ellesmera this morning," he said, then turned away, refusing to even look at Frjals for another second.

"Ah." Fritos seemed to ponder this for a moment, then dipped his head politely to Pelrin and set off at an easy pace back to the lake.

The boy was still there, lying on the shore with his eyes closed. He looked up when Fritos' shadow fell over him. He had only come back to his senses that morning, but Fritos had told him everything that had happened after he had been captured. The elf had carried the boy from Uru'baen to where they were now without stopping, sprinting the whole way. He didn't look tired at all.

"Was she here?" the boy asked. He hadn't yet decided on a name for himself.

"She was," Fritos confirmed.

The boy stood up, his red lamarae clothes and bright ruby wings glinting in the bright sunlight. His scales stood out much more than Dusk's black ones, and Frjals had to turn his face slightly so as not to blind himself.

"What do we now?" the boy asked.

"She was taken to Ellesmera this morning," Fritos said. Without waiting for a reply, he began walking the quarter mile back to the forest.

* * *

><p>A pond. It was still and clear, about ten feet deep and maybe twenty feet wide, more of an oversized puddle than a pond. Small silver fish and tiny black tadpoles frisked about beneath the surface. Lotuses and and lily pads dotted the far side, and reeds waved gently in the breeze. A dragonfly darted over the the water in pursuit of a mosquito.<p>

The pond had a forest surrounding three sides. The fourth collided violently with a barren stretch of yellow rocks and dusty grey sand, and beyond that, the ruins of Doru Araeba stood, silent and forlorn, a skeleton of the mighty city it had once been.

Something gently tapped the face of the water. A giant ivory claw, three feet long. A ripple spread outward from where the claw made contact with the pond, lime-colored ripples that wavered and shimmered beneath a sun that stood in the center of the sky.

Where the waves vanished, the green remained. Two figures were in the center of that green expanse. An ebony wall with a castle of the same color looming above it materialized behind the figures. A low rumble came from above the pond, from the thing that had called the animated image into existence. Laughter.

The figures, one a wolf, the other a large black cat, were running away from the great castle behind them. There was another thunder-like sound, and the claw once again prodded the surface of the pond.

Swells billowed out from the point where the talon made contact with the water, but this time they were black. The inky water overlay the previous green and formed itself into jet-black bricks. A room appeared, quivering on the water. Two dark silk cushions stood in the center of the cramped room. On each was an egg, one red, one green. They were oval, large, and brilliantly colored, even in the dim lighting of the place, and thin silver lines spider-webbed across them.

The image vanished. There was a sudden gust of wind that blew across the pond with the force of a gale, flattening the cattails, sending great surges and waves out over the normally calm water, tossing the insects and floating leaves to the side, causing the weaker saplings in the forest to bend over and yield to the fury of the blast. A fox that had been drinking at the pond flew back and hit a tree, snapping its spine. Something huge brushed against the water. Then it was over, and the pond and its surroundings were undisturbed, masking the events that had just occurred as if they had never happened. Well, except for the dead fox, but that doesn't count.


	21. Trifaybrfuyrgafjhrg Kingslayer

Around noon, we had a vegetarian lunch, then we got back on the horses. We had a (also vegetarian) dinner next to this little elf place called Osilon or something. Then I fell asleep and the stupid little elves woke me up at the crack of dawn for a vegetarian breakfast. Apparently, elves don't need to sleep at all, which is probably why they don't care about depriving other people of their sleep. And then we rode the horses the whole day with just a lunch break. Great, so I'll give you some good advice. Never go horse-riding with elves for two days in a row. My rear end was smarting like crazy after wobbling around on my horse for so long.

It was evening, and we were still randomly wandering around the forest.

"Get off the horse," Loshar told me, and I dropped down.

"Ow," I muttered when the impact with the ground made my butt start hurting.

"Humans are rarely allowed into Ellesmera," Rillon explained, also dismounting. "We do not want you announcing your arrival by riding into the city on an elf horse, since it would cause a certain amount of disturbance amongst the citizens. It would be best if you could go to Islanzadi Drottning without passing through Ellesmera at all, but there is only one entrance."

"Gosh, that's inconvenient. But how can there be only one entrance to a city if there aren't any walls? It doesn't make any sense."

Rillon actually looked a bit uncomfortable with my question. "It would be best if you did not know."

"Right," I said. On some weird and sudden impulse, sorta like a sixth sense but way less accurate and a ton more random, I turned around.

Fritos popped out from behind a tree. Well, he didn't actually _pop _out, he more just walked slowly out of nowhere. Then he sidestepped neatly for no apparent reason. The apparent reason appeared five milliseconds later. The kiddie from Uru'baen did a spectacular faceplant on the ground right where Fritos had just been.

"Jeez, you're good at showing up at the best times," I said brightly, addressing Fritos.

"Herihbsough," Loshar hissed. I glanced back and saw he had pulled out his sword. Rillon was standing there, looking bemused. The horses had all sauntered off. "What are you doing here?"

Fritos calmly studied Loshar. "Have we met?" he asked coolly. Oh, please, I could've done it much better than him. But, for an elf, that was alright.

"No," said Loshar, glaring at Fritos. "But I have heard of you, Joingond, and the tales did not fall pleasantly on my ears."

"Loshar, who is he?" Rillon said.

"I'll handle the intros," I said, clapping my hands together. "Right, so, that's the kid on the ground, that's Fritos, the guy with the sword is Loshar, and the shiny kid is Rillon. Got it? 'Kay."

"The kid on the ground has a name," the boy said, slowly getting up. I snickered when I saw how much dirt was on his face. The front of his scarlet shirt was also covered with soil, and even as I watched, a few clumps of it dropped back onto the forest floor.

"Of course he does," I agreed. "Would you mind sharing it with us, oh great lord of epic faceplants?"

"I, uh," the kid said, embarrassed. "I don't have a name yet."

"Then that means you're the kid on the ground," I said, smirking.

"I'm Pigeon," he murmured, as if unsure of himself. Then, louder, he repeated it. "I'm Pigeon."

I rolled my eyes. "That's really lame, ya'know?"

"Let's see if you can come up with a better one," Pigeon snapped.

"Dusk beats the crap out of Pigeon, dear little kiddie," I said, grinning. "Besides, I've got some random awesome dagger. Do you have some random awesome dagger?"

"Your name is Dusk?" asked Loshar, making me jump. Then I remembered that I hadn't told either him or Rillon my name yet.

"Well, duh," I said, recovering from my shock. "What, did you think I was Dawn? Idiot."

Loshar sighed, then turned back to face Fritos, who was leaning against a really big elm tree with his arms crossed over his chest. Or was it an oak tree? Or a maple? Ah, forget it. It was just a big tree, and that's that. I was pretty sure that he was gonna challenge Fritos to a duel, and I just couldn't allow that, could I? So I slid between them.

"So, why do you hate Fritos so much?" I asked cheerfully.

"Get out of my way, human," Loshar snarled. Another great tip: don't make an elf snarl. They look really creepy like that.

Yeah, I took his advice and got out of his way. If he had asked me nicely while holding a flowery teapot and a plate of sugar cookies, I wouldn't have listened to him. But he was holding a sword and his eyes had gone all crazy. I dare you to not get out of an elf's way when they look like that. Especially if that elf has a long black ponytail and flashing purple eyes.

I was wrong when I said Loshar was going to challenge Fritos to a duel. He skipped the challenge part and attacked right away. He was so fast that my eyes couldn't even track his movements properly. One moment he was there, the next he was in the air with his sword raised in the air, and then he was next to Fritos.

I was pretty sure Fritos was going to get killed, but it seemed he was faster than I thought, because he managed to dodge the strike at the last second. Rillon, who was standing next to me, looked like he wanted to help, but he seemed to be confused as to which side he was on. To tell you the truth, so was I. I mean, Fritos had saved my life once, and that definitely meant something, even though I'd already payed him back for it, but I didn't know why Loshar was attacking him, so I couldn't just go ahead and help Fritos. Not that I'd be much use anyways, since I only saw the two of them as blurs.

I pulled out my dagger and threw it at a tree, where it buried itself in the bark. Hey, I wasn't helping Fritos, I was just evening out the competition. Fritos seemed to get my meaning, because he ducked Loshar's swipe and grabbed the dagger. He parried a blow that would have decapitated him if it had hit, then swept the dagger around and attacked Loshar's ribs. But I could tell his heart wasn't really in it, because his attack was so slow that I could actually see it.

Loshar yelled some gibberish, and Fritos countered it with a stream of words muttered under his breath.

"Blah blah blah," Fritos cried, blocking a series of slashes aimed for his neck. He actually seemed to be going easy on Loshar. "Blah blah blah blah."

That stopped Loshar. Still glaring at Fritos, he growled, "Blah blah blah." At least he sheathed his sword.

Fritos shook his head. "Blah blah."

"Blah," Loshar whispered. "Blah blah, blah. Blah blah."

"Blah," Fritos said, and there was some regret in his voice. "Blah blah blah blah blah."

"Glad you guys like each so much," I said suddenly, making the two elves jump. "Now, do you mind giving me my dagger back?"

Fritos handed it back to me and I tossed it back into its scabbard. "I am privileged to have held Andlat," he said, gazing rather fondly at my dagger.

"Andlat?" I asked.

"Your dagger," Fritos explained. "It once belonged to a Rider, and that was what the Rider named it. It means Death."

"Figures," I said. "This place is just cliché enough that I manage to find a Rider's dagger in jail, and it's called Death to boot. So, why were you two fighting again?"

Loshar's gaze slid over to Rillon. "You would do well to spend more time at the faelnirv breoal, Rillon. You may even be lucky enough to find Du Draumr Kacip."

"Du Draumr Kacip tells many lies," Rillon answered.

"No. It tells the truth, although it may distort it sometimes," Loshar said. He looked accusingly at Fritos. "He killed Evandar Konungr."


	22. She's Being Cliche on Purpose

Apparently, that was pretty shocking news. Rillon was utterly dumbstruck. His golden eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

"What? But-"

"Hold it!" Pigeon interrupted. All of us turned to look at him. Seriously, he was being so quiet I'd completely forgotten he was there. "What's going on here?" he asked. He looked on the verge of tears. Wimp. "Why were you trying to kill...him? What is this place?"

"You need not worry about that," Fritos said. Then he turned back to Loshar. "And yes, Du Draumr Kacip did indeed tell the truth. However, it changed the details to its liking."

"Great, whatever, so let's just get to this Ellie place first and then we can talk all we want. 'Kay? Yeah, good, let's go," I said, trying to lighten up the mood.

"Yeah, let's go already," Pigeon agreed. I shot him a glare. Like he even knew what I was talking about.

Loshar was still looking at Fritos in a way that suggested they were mortal enemies, even though they'd never even met before then. "Yes," he said. "We have spent enough time here."

Fritos snorted. "Blah blah blah blah blah."

"Blah blah blah blah blah," Loshar responded.

"Blah blah blah?" asked Fritos.

"Blah," Loshar said.

Fritos nodded, as if this was what he had been expecting. "Blah blah. Blah. Blah blah blah blah." Then he turned and ran.

"Blah!" Rillon called, taking a step forwards.

"So, let's get going," I said cheerfully, turning back to the direction we had been going in before Fritos showed up.

Loshar did the same, his face kept carefully blank, and started walking. "Forget him, Rillon," he said. "The Drottning is waiting, and she has had no tolerance of stragglers ever since the Drottningu was abducted."

Rillon hesitated, then followed Loshar without another word.

"What do we do?" Pigeon asked me anxiously.

"Well, we go with them," I said, rolling my eyes. "What were you going to do?"

"I was thinking-" he started, but then I interrupted him.

"You were thinking? That's an improvement," I said.

Pigeon glared at me, then continued, "Couldn't we just fly away?"

"Do you even know _how _to fly, genius?" I asked lazily, flaring my wings.

The kid looked a bit uncomfortable.

"No, not really," he muttered.

"Then you know how to fly fictitiously! Wonderful. So, let's follow them, since we really don't have anything else to do and I'm bored."

"Can _you_ fly?" he asked. He sounded a bit triumphant, as if he had scored a point.

"Well, duh, I can fly," I said. Pigeon looked crestfallen that I hadn't said no. I snorted, then sprinted after the elves.

* * *

><p>The pig sat on its haunches, looking expectantly up at the shadows.<p>

Next to the pig was Grimrr Halfpaw in his cat form. He was sitting with his tail curled around his paws, also looking at the darkness. But he wasn't looking at it expectantly; he was gazing up with an expression that could best be described as worshiping.

Both of them were on a large flat rock that barely rose an inch above the sandy plains of Vroengard. Twenty feet in front of them was one of the crumbling walls of Doru Araeba. Huddled in the ruins' shadow was a creature that had taken measures to not be seen. In fact, it had made sure to be as cliche as possible, since the only thing that could be seen of it were two seriously huge red eyes. It was miraculous that the thing, whatever it was, was able to stay in the shadows at all, since it was obviously so gigantic.

_You have done well, _a female voice said at last. It was addressing the pig. _Indeed, I shall grant your request._

An ivory claw appeared from behind the fog. A small spark leaped out of the tip and drifted over to the pig, where it landed on its snout.

The pig let out a little yelp of pain and scrabbled on the ground for a moment, twisting and writhing in agony. After a few seconds, its eyes glowed silver and it went back to its previous position, somehow managing to look extremely creepy and menacing. It was larger than before, and its already dark skin had turned midnight black. Then a flurry of dust blew past it and covered it for a moment. When the wind passed, the pig had vanished.

_What happened to it, Lady? _Grimrr asked, looking up at the figure curled up beneath the ivy-covered wall.

_In return for rescuing you, I would make her stronger and grant her the gift of _gramarye___. I have sent her back to the mainland. She now has no memory of Uru'baen, you, or me, _the voice answered. _As for you, Grimrr..._

Grimrr flinched. The Lady hadn't actually done anything to him, but the way that she trailed off unsettled him.

_You have failed me, and now I give you a chance to redeem yourself, _she finished.

The werecat let out a sigh of relief. _What do you wish for me to do?_

_Go back to the mainland and take up the position of Werecat King. The Varden will head to Surda soon. Once you have control over your brethren, go to Surda and offer them the assistance of the werecats._

_Yes, Lady, _Grimrr said. He stood up. _But they will no doubt search my mind. How will I guard my memories of you without arousing their suspicion?_

At this question, the Lady began laughing, a deep, throaty laugh that sounded like a coughing fit. _Ah, but Grimrr, you have no memories of me. You have never seen nor heard of me in your life._

Grimrr understood then, and he asked, _Is this really necessary, Lady?_

_Would I do it if it was not?_

No. No, she wouldn't. Grimrr was reassured by that thought.

He suddenly felt an enormous presence in his mind. The werecat instantly tried to fight back, but then realized what he was doing and pulled away reluctantly, letting the Lady do whatever she wanted. She stole every memory he had of her, all except for his most recent order, which was manipulated so the voice that had given it was different.

She wasn't trying to hurt him - in fact, she was doing her best not to - but such a large memory modification was bound to cause a lot of pain. So when she retreated, Grimrr was left sprawled on the ground, shivering despite the heat, his eyes open but unseeing and his fur bristling. A small puff of smoke enveloped him, and when it passed, he, like the pig, was gone.


	23. The Stone House Burned

Eragon was woken up by a shout from outside. He sat up, put on his clothes, which were stacked in a corner of the cave, and walked over to the entrance._ Saphira, wake up._

Saphira sleepily raised her head behind him and yawned. _What?_

_I don't know, _Eragon answered. Looking down at the floor of the dragonhold, the great gem Isidar Mithrim, he saw Brom standing there, staring up at him. _Brom, _he told Saphira. Then he called down to the old man twenty feet below, "Good morning, Brom. What is it?"

"Ajihad's called a meeting," Brom yelled back.

"Alright, we're coming," said Eragon. Turning back, he told Saphira, "Hurry up."

The dragoness yawned again and stood up. Eragon clambered onto her back, and she dropped down onto the gem.

Eragon, Saphira, and Brom walked into the meeting room. The stone doors slammed shut behind them.

A sky blue dome sparkling with constellations was the ceiling. A round marble table, inlaid with a design of an upright hammer ringed by twelve stars, the crest of the dwarf clan Durgrimst Ingeitum, stood in the middle. Seated around it on padded wooden chairs were three men, three women, Ajihad, Arya, Murtagh, the dwarf king Hrothgar, Orik, and Roran. Brom and Eragon sat down at two empty chairs. Saphira lay down behind Eragon's chair.

Ajihad nodded at the three of them, then began. "For those of you who have not heard, Galbatorix has done a few odd things recently. They're obviously part of some evil plan of his. One of these things concerns taxes."

"More taxes?" asked a tall man, sounding bored.

"No, Umerth," Ajihad said. "In fact, the tyrant has lowered taxes."

_What?_ Eragon asked Saphira incredulously as everybody around the table stirred in surprise.

_Let us hear what Ajihad has to say first, _Saphira answered.

"And," Ajihad continued, once everyone had settled down, "slavery has been outlawed."

There was a pause, then Roran voiced what everybody was thinking. "Has Galbatorix gone mad?"

Brom chuckled dryly. "And Eragon, Saphira, the elves, the Varden, and the dwarves are welcome in all lands controlled by the Empire. Galbatorix himself promised not to harm or capture any of the mentioned people and races, physically or mentally."

"Where did you hear this?" a fat man asked. "Is the source reliable?"

"King Orrin of Surda sent a messenger pigeon. It arrived two hours ago," said Ajihad calmly.

"Then what is the point of this war?" a woman with a crow's nest of grey hair on her head and a homely face said.

"That's exactly what Galbatorix wants you to think," a man with wiry arms snapped. "The moment any one of us sets foot on his land, he will kill us all."

Arya spoke for the first time. "In what language did he speak this promise?"

"English," answered Brom. "He could break it at any moment. But nearly all of the populace only speaks English, and so saying it in the ancient language wouldn't be practical."

"One of our suppliers from Teirm," said Ajihad, cutting across everybody else, "died on the same day that Galbatorix said these. Jeod, his wife, and his butler all perished when the house burned down."

Brom let out a cry of shock, as did Eragon.

"His house was made of stone!" Eragon said in disbelief. "How could it have burned down?"

"Exactly," agreed Ajihad. "I suspect he was murdered."

A lady with the same sable skin as Ajihad spoke up. "The herbalist that lived next to him, Angela, has already told us that the house exploded. Someone destroyed it on purpose."

"Did she see who did it?" Brom spat angrily.

"No. It happened in the middle of the night," the lady replied.

"Maybe his stove blew up," Orik said innocently. Everyone looked at him, and he shut up.

"What about what happened in Uru'baen three days ago?" asked a tall, skinny man.

"Ah, yes, that," said Ajihad.

"I heard that it was something to do with Shruikan leaving Galbatorix's castle, but I didn't manage to get the details. What happened there?" said Murtagh.

"A girl escaped from Shruikan in Uru'baen," Ajihad said.

"Why would Galbatorix want a girl?" asked the man with wiry arms. "And why would he send a dragon?"

Ajihad hesitated, then answered, "The people of Uru'baen are saying that the girl had black wings."

"Dusk?" Murtagh asked.

Ajihad started. "The girl who came with Saphira?"

"You didn't know that she has wings?" Eragon said.

"None of us ever noticed anything strange about her during her stay here," said the dark-skinned lady, "besides her complete disregard for authority and her decision to sleep in the dragonhold."

_She told us she was going to Uru'baen, _Saphira mused. _It might have been her. Although I wonder she escaped from Shruikan._

"Eragon?" said Roran.

"What? Oh, umm," Eragon stuttered, unsure of what had just been said.

"Ajihad was asking if you and Saphira could go and check on Vroengard," Roran said, sparing Ajihad the need of repeating the question.

"Vroengard? Why Vroengard?" asked Eragon, confused.

"There are tales," said Orik, his hands clasped in front of him. "It is said that dark beasts inhabit the island these days."

Ajihad nodded. "Indeed, Orik. I have heard that the ships Galbatorix sends there never come back, even when enchanted by the tyrant himself. There must be something powerful there."

"And you want us to investigate?" the Rider said.

"Under normal circumstances, I would not have allowed you to leave the Beors, but now that Galbatorix seems to be idle, I believe we can risk it," Ajihad said.

"I'm coming with you, boy," Brom growled. "I might even be able to find the bastards who murdered Jeod. I have a score to settle with them." His tone left no place for argument.

"Very well, Brom," said Ajihad, slightly hesitantly. "We will make the arrangements. Be at the dragonhold in an hour."


	24. Hey, are You Related to Blank?

Pigeon and I trailed slightly behind the two elves. I think they walked in front of us intentionally just to annoy me. See, Pigeon's a little idiot, and he was driving me crazy with his stupid questions.

"How do you fly?"

"Shut up."

"How come you have black wings and I have red ones?"

"Shut up."

"What is this place?"

"Shut up."

"Where are we going?"

"Shut up."

"Were you born here or did you just wake up here one day?"

"Shut up."

"Why are you so mean?"

"Shut up."

"Is that the only thing you say?"

I stopped and turned to look at him straight in the face. "I am going to say this to you one more time, little kiddie," I growled. _"Shut. The. Eff. Up."_

But he just kept on rattling away. "Where'd you get your dagger?"

I snapped out my left wing and caught him on the side of the head, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Hey! What was that for?" he asked indignantly. His right cheek was already red, to match his clothes and wings.

"If you just say another word," I whispered dramatically, "then I will use my dagger on you."

That kept him quiet. He stood up, grumbling and patting his clothes to get rid of the dirt, and followed behind me without making another sound.

After a bit of trudging through the forest, the trees got a bit thinner and I could make out something in the distance, illuminated by a small shaft of sunlight that had forced it through the thick canopy of leaves and needles overhead. It was some random elf guy. He had these really long and silky robes and he had this silver circlet on his head. His face was calm and old and elfy.

Loshar said a few sentences in gibberish, and the old elf said something back. Then Loshar added a few more words in gibberish, and the old elf smiled, closed his eyes, and spread his arms. I wasn't sure whether he wanted a hug or if he was trying to block our way. But Rillon and Loshar just walked around him and me and Pigeon followed suit. When I looked back, the elf dude had vanished.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"That was Gilderien the Wise, Prince of House Miolandra, wielder of the White Flame of Vandil, and guardian of Ellesmera. Without his permission, none may enter the city," Rillon answered, as if that long string of meaningless titles made it all clear.

I shrugged and decided not to ask any more questions.

A quarter of a mile later, the trees thinned some more. We passed underneath these two random big fat trees that leaned against each other at the edge of an empty glade. No, I take that back. A bunch of these little bright flowers were living there, and bumblebees were buzzing around in thick swarms. A little stream gurgled along to the right.

I didn't know if the glade was Ellesmera or if this was some sort of entrance courtyard thing, but I guessed it didn't matter too much anyways. Pigeon and I just followed Loshar and Rillon through the enormous clearing.

Eventually, I noticed that there were a bunch of random elves watching us from the shadows. They just stood where they were and stared. It was actually pretty creepy.

We followed this green cobblestone path for a while. At the end of the road were these stairs made from tree roots grown together in weird shapes. We climbed them, and at the top, there was a big of door made of random little trees that were also grown into weird shapes.

"Be polite," Loshar muttered to me and Pigeon. I think he was aiming it more at me.

The door opened by itself, revealing this big tree hall with a ceiling made from tree branches melded together. There were twelve chairs growing out of two of the walls, and twenty-four elves sat there and stared at us, just like the guys outside. Sitting at the end of the hall, on a really big chair, was a twenty-fifth elf that looked familiar for some reason. She also looked depressed. A white bird sat on her shoulder.

The elf lady looked up when we entered. Rillon stepped forward, tapped his mouth with two fingers, then exchanged a few random words with her. Then she asked him stuff, and he answered the questions with overly long strings of gibberish. Loshar occasionally said some stuff as well.

I started fidgeting after just a few minutes, and the elf lady finally turned to me and Pigeon. And that was when I realised why she looked so familiar.

"Hey, are you related to Arya?" I asked, by way of a proper greeting. A few of the elves stirred, and Loshar shot me a warning glance.

"You know Arya?" the elf said anxiously. She seemed to have forgotten how rude I had just been, which was lucky for me, since she could probably blast me all the way to the desert on a bad day.

"Yup. Met her at Gil'ead."

"Where is she now?" she asked. Her depressed eyes brightened a bit.

"What? Oh, umm, I would say with the Varden. Why?"

"She's alive?" the elf questioned.

"Err, yeah? I mean, why would I fly a corpse from Gil'ead to Teirm to those mountains way over there?"

At this, the elf lady seemed to relax and leaned back in her throne. She gave a huge sigh, and the elves on the sides all stared at me even more.

"Who's Arya?" Pigeon asked, swinging his head between me and the elf at the end of the hall. We all ignored him.

"Thank you for bringing me this news," the elf said. A few of the elves on the side gasped. Most just stared at either me or her. Even the bird on her shoulder looked at her strangely, cocking its head in disbelief. I almost asked her if she should be asking for our names and saying some impressive lines about throwing us into the dungeon, but I stopped myself.

"I didn't technically _bring _it," I muttered instead, but nobody heard.

"Leave," one of the elves hissed, and Rillon stared at him for a moment, then turned and followed Loshar out. Pigeon and I ran after them.


	25. Sure He Isn't Being Sarcastic

Eragon and Brom were both sitting on Saphira's back. Their supplies hung from the saddle. Saphira had already spread her wings and was about to take off when someone cried from the arched entrance to the dragonhold, "Wait!"

All three of them turned their heads in the direction of the voice. Standing there, with his hand against the arch, was Murtagh. He was panting, and sweat coated him like a second skin, albeit a rather wet and shiny skin. It was obvious that he had run all the way up the stairs.

"Murtagh? What are you doing here?" asked Eragon, slightly surprised.

"I need to come with you," panted Murtagh.

_I might be able to carry Murtagh as well if you lighten the packs, _said Saphira. _But first, ask him whether he has permission from Ajihad._

When Eragon relayed Saphira's question, Murtagh looked a bit uncomfortable. "No," he muttered, "I have no permission. But I must prove my loyalty to the Varden, and what better way to do that than to accompany you?"

"But I though Ajihad already trusts you?" said Eragon

"Only because Brom vouched for me," said Murtagh, giving a small nod in Brom's direction.

Saphira cocked her head to the side and stared at Murtagh for a while. _Get on, _she said finally, and Murtagh's face brightened. He ran over and scrambled onto Saphira while Eragon sifted through their supplies and threw out most of the heavier things.

_They won't take that well, _Eragon said, looking at the pile of random stuff on the floor of the dragonhold.

_Hopefully, they'll have forgotten by the time we get back, _Saphira answered.

The dragon beat her mighty wings and, with some difficulty, took flight.

* * *

><p>Galbatorix was in a foul mood, and yet, at the same time, he was also in quite a cheery mood. He didn't know how that was possible, but he just assumed that Shruikan's emotions were affecting him and didn't think any more of it.<p>

First the egg, then Morzan, then Morzan's cursed son, then the Rider, the elf, the dragon, the girl, the girl again, and then the werecat! Misfortune was piled on misfortune. Then there was his reputation to consider. It had been low in the first place, but it had plummeted recently until it was almost irredeemable.

Why was it so low anyways?

_Your name_, said Shruikan. _What good guy has a name like _Galbatorix_? _He said Galbatorix in a voice that sounded like someone retching. _Your old name was much better. King Alberto inspires slightly more loyalty than Galbatorix does._ He said Galbatorix in the same voice as before.

_Shut up,_ Galbatorix muttered sullenly.

However, Shruikan had completely repaired the damage to his reputation as well as planted seeds of doubt in the minds of his enemies with one brilliant move. Galbatorix didn't know what he would do without the black dragon.

_Not much, _Shruikan said smugly.

Galbatorix ignored him.

But even though Shruikan had managed to quell the various minor rebellions that had risen up, there was still the problem of everyone who had escaped from the Empire. Of course, after the werecat had escaped from their own castle, security everywhere had been stepped up and the dungeon's guards had had a stern talking to, but that would only help the future, not the past. And since all of his important prisoners had escaped or been rescued, there wasn't much in the future to actually help.

The king strode through the corridors and stopped before a rather unremarkable brick that looked the exact same as the ones around it.

With a few choice words from the ancient language, the brick slid forwards, and the surrounding bricks rearranged themselves until Galbatorix was standing in front of a tiny tunnel in the middle of the wall.

_You should make the tunnel bigger, _said Shruikan.

_It's harder to discover this way._

_No it isn't._

After making sure nobody was watching, Galbatorix clambered into the tunnel and crawled down it on his elbows in a very unkingly manner. He heard the brick float back into place behind him.

An eternity later, he reached the end of the pitch-black tunnel and emerged into a small, unlit room.

"Garjzla, light," he muttered, and the room filled with light.

Sitting on two separate cushions were a green and a red dragon egg. Both were somewhat large, with silvery lines spiderwebbing across their iridescent shells.

The king crouched down next to the red one and tapped it thoughtfully. There was a little squeak from inside, and Galbatorix felt an irritated red spark bump off his mental walls.

"I wonder who your Riders are," he whispered.

_Think, Galbatorix, _Shruikan said. _I already know who the red one's Rider is._

_What? Why didn't you tell me sooner? _Galbatorix shouted at the dragon, his semi-calm mood evaporating in an instant.

_It's Morzan's son, _said Shruikan, as if it was completely obvious. It was. _Brom's dragon was blue, and so his was his son's. Does it not make sense that Morzan's offspring would also follow this rule?_

_Murtagh? _a_s_ked Galbatorix.

_Yes, Murtagh, _Shruikan said, as if speaking to a dim-witted child. _Morzan's son, Murtagh, is the most likely candidate for the red dragon egg._

_We must capture him, then!_

_How do you propose to do that?_

_By- Wait, I have a feeling._

Shruikan, who was currently lounging in the dragonhold, froze. Galbatorix was not exactly the most intelligent Rider ever, but Shruikan knew that Galbatorix's "feelings" were nearly always right. It was how the king had avoided being killed by the Urgals that had slaughtered his first dragon, it was how he had found a Shade willing to teach him her secrets, it was how he had discovered Morzan. But if his concentration was disturbed, the feeling would vanish.

Ten minutes later, Galbatorix broke out of his stupor.

_Furnost, _he said urgently.

Shruikan got his meaning and extended his mind to the town of Furnost, which was directly south of Uru'baen. _What am I looking for?_

_Anything unusual._

_Specifics?_

_I have no idea._

Shruikan spread his consciousness out to cover the whole town. He didn't notice anything strange, so he began scanning the surrounding lands. He came to an abrupt halt in his search when he noticed the four shielded minds grouped together to the west of the city. He immediately recognized two of the minds, and a third one took him a moment to remember, but in the end he realized who it was as well. The fourth mind, however, he had never sensed before.

_Four of them, to the west of the city._

_Do you recognize them?_

_Murtagh, the blue dragon, and Brom. The fourth one's probably the Rider.  
><em>

There was a pause as Galbatorix took control of a random soldier in Furnost and passed on the order to send every available soldier out to capture the four. Then the king retreated from the soldiers mind and spoke again to Shruikan. _I sent every last soldier after them. They'll not get away this time._

_Wait wait_ _wait, _said Shruikan. _Call back that order, hurry!_

_What for?_

_Do it already!_

_Fine!_ He did. The soldier was a bit confused afterwards, but it didn't really matter.

_Don't you remember what you said earlier? You wouldn't capture any of the Varden without being provoked first, you dolt! We've got to think up an excuse first._

_One of our spies mentioned the Varden going down to Surda to team up with King Orrin and fight us from there, _said Galbatorix.

_Good, good, that works. After we so generously offered to make peace with them, they come back and attack us. We're just trying to end this ridiculous war, and so we need to find out their plans to figure out how to combat them with as little casualties as possible on both sides. The easiest way to do that is to capture some of their members and interrogate them, all in the name of peace, of course._

_You're making it sound like we're_ not_ actually trying to make peace, _said Galbatorix suspiciously.

_Never mind that, _said Shruikan. _Just go ahead and re-order that soldier._

_Okay._


	26. Magicalness is Magical

"Hey, can you attack my mind as hard as you can?" I asked.

I was bored. Ellesmera was pretty enough, but I'm just not really the sight-seeing type. After Islanzadi dismissed us, Loshar and Rillon had decided to just randomly wander around the city and, with nothing else to do, Pigeon and I had followed.

At my question, both Rillon and Loshar turned.

"Why?" asked Loshar.

"Oh, I just need to test something. And, yeah, Rillon, could you do it? 'Cause I'm a bit scared of Loshar there."

Rillon nodded, and then I felt an overwhelming pressure slam into my mind.

I automatically threw up my normal defenses: _You are stupid. You are stupid. _Then I remembered what I had been wanting to test and switched shields.

_Stupid elf, stupid elf, _I sang to the tune of Jingle Bells, _you're an idiot. And we all, hate your guts for no specific reason!_

Rillon's attack weakened, as if he couldn't believe that I would ever use insults as a shield. Then he renewed the attack, stronger than before.

I grinned. _Stupid elf, stupid elf, you're not worth my time. If you don't get past my shields, I'm gonna annoy you!_

I repeated it a few more times, occasionally changing some of the words. Rillon retreated after the eleventh rendition, shaking his head in disbelief.

"So, which one was more annoying, the song or 'you are stupid'?" I said, smirking.

"Both were...unlike anything I am used to," he replied.

"What happened?" asked Pigeon anxiously. As usual, we all ignored him.

"Which one was worse?"

"The first one," the elf said.

"It is?" I asked. "Darn. I wanted to do something different."

"What happened?" Pigeon repeated pleadingly.

I turned to him. "Hi, liddle kiddie! Can ya shield your mind?"

"What?" he said, looking at me strangely.

I rolled my eyes. "Right, so, do you feel anything in your head?" I sent a little probe into his consciousness.

He just kept on staring at me. "What?"

"You can't feel anything?"

"No," said Pigeon.

I sighed. "You suck. Like, really badly. Is there anything you _can _do?"

"Yes," he said defensively.

"Like what?"

"Swordfighting."

I laughed. "You're joking, right?"

"I'm serious; I can use a sword."

"Right." I snickered, then ran to catch up with the two elves, who had wandered ahead while we were chatting. "Hey, who's Evan Corn Flakes?"

"Is that a nickname for something?" asked Loshar, without looking at me.

"No."

"I don't think anyone called Evan Corn Flakes exists in Alagaesia."

"You know, that guy Fritos killed?" The moment I said it, I knew it was touchy subject for Loshar.

Rillon seemed to realize the danger as well. "I will be at the faelnirv breoal." He ambled away in the direction of a really big tree.

Loshar stopped and turned to face me. "King Evandar."

"Oh, so he's your king? No wonder you hate Fritos so much," I said, nodding. "By the way, why'd Fritos kill him?"

The elf started walking again. "Only he knows."

"That's a stupid reason," I commented. Then I noticed Loshar's hand was curling slightly, as if he was trying to keep it from rolling into a fist. I could tell I was straying into dangerous territory, but I persisted. Or tried to, anyway. "And- Ooh, what're they doing?" I pointed at a group of elves marching around the place who were holding a bunch of rocks and turnips.

Loshar seemed to prefer the change of subject. "The Agaeti Blodhren will begin in a few months. They are preparing."

"The wha?"

"The Blood-oath Celebration," explained Loshar. "It is our most important event, and occurs only once every century. It celebrates the bonding of the elves and dragons after Du Fyrn Skulblaka. Elves from all over Du Weldenvarden will come to Ellesmera to participate."

"Why do they have turnips?" asked Pigeon suddenly. I jumped.

"Each participant must bring something of their own creation to the celebration. I am guessing that is what the plants are for," said Loshar.

I had a crazy idea right then. "Could you teach me magic?"

Loshar stared at me strangely. "You wish to learn magic?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding vigorously.

The elf muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a swear word, then said to Pigeon. "Do you want to learn as well?"

"Err, sure," he said, looking bewildered.

"I go against my better judgment," Loshar murmured. Then, in a slightly louder voice, he said, "Both of you, grab some soil."

Pigeon and I both dug some out of the ground. "Yeah, now what?" I asked.

"Say deloi reisa."

"Deloi reisa," we repeated.

"Now say it and concentrate on making the soil rise."

I stared at the pile of dirt in my hand and pictured it floating in the air. "Deloi reisa." Nothing happened. Pigeon didn't have any luck either.

Suddenly, something slammed into my mind with an immense amount of force. I gasped in surprise and automatically began throwing up walls. _You are stupid, you are stupid...  
><em>

The vast something hit my shields with the force of a hundred battering rams, and I was knocked aside. Before I could react, the alien consciousness had slipped into my mind.

_Good, _it murmured. _Good._

_Get the hell out of my mind right now, _I snapped, before throwing together another barrier directly in front of the thing. It swept the hastily erected wall aside easily.

_I am helping you, _it said. The voice sounded vaguely feminine.

_Like I'm falling for that. _But I wasn't an idiot. I knew perfectly well that whatever this thing was, it was a lot stronger than I was, so I didn't waste time and energy trying to stop it.

The thing stopped in front of an orb in the back of my mind that I didn't remember ever noticing before. Inside it swirled black light, and occasionally the darkness would send out bright little flashes, as if it were trying to get out.

_This, _the thing said.

_Do finish your sentence, _I said, mentally yawning and rolling my eyes.

It didn't respond. Instead, it charged at the sphere, shattering it, and the black stuff poured out. "Deloi reisa," I said, with nothing better to do.

The dirt twitched, then slowly began rising until it was at eye level. I noticed that there was a rather bemused-looking worm wriggling around in the floating blob of soil.

Then I felt the black energy seep back into the sphere, which reformed around it, and the dirt and the worm both fell onto the ground.

_Tell Rillon to look for J-taiuhgrkjgk, _said the thing, _and, when you are able to, head to Vroengard. _It retreated from my mind, giving me my much-needed privacy.

"You managed it on your first try," said Loshar needlessly, forcing me back into reality.

Pigeon was staring at me in complete awe. "How did you do that?"

"Ah, little thing in my mind. Kinda attacked me, got past my barriers, and shattered this black magical orb thingie."

"How can something get into your mind?" asked Pigeon, confused.

"Easy. I'll do it right now." I dived into his unguarded mind and began sifting through his memories. It turned out that he, like me, had woken up one day with no knowledge of where or who he was. The only difference was that he had showed up in the desert. Then he had trekked across the desert for a few months and somehow managed to survive, all the while trying and failing to get his wings to work. He had also felt the pull to Uru'baen and had gone there, where he had gotten caught by the guards. Very boring, actually. And then I noticed something about the memory of Uru'baen. The kid was right, he _could _use a sword. He had managed to get one somehow and it had taken three spear-carrying soldiers to get him on the ground.

Loshar suddenly decided to intrude as well, but he did it to block me, even though I had already seen all of Pigeon's memories.

_There are strict rules regarding entering someone's mind, _he said.

_And you say that conveniently_ after_ I've already seen all his memories! Great timing. But he still needs to learn to guard himself._

"I'm hearing voices in my head," said Pigeon.

_We're your consciences, _I said.

"My conscience is a girl?"

_Yeah I am. Now shut up and let me argue with Loshar a bit more, 'kay? Yeah, so, where were we? Oh right, he still needs to learn to guard himself._

Loshar contemplated this for a moment, then said, _Agreed. Otherwise anyone could find out Ellesmera's location from him.  
><em>

_Sweet. Now how do we do that? Mind games?_

"My conscience sounds really like Dusk," Pigeon said.

"No it doesn't," I said.

"But it does!"

_It's a voice in your head. Of course it doesn't sound like me. Oh, oops, I just gave that away, didn't I?_

"How do you do that?"

_By doing it. Right, Loshar, how do we teach him to guard his mind?_

_Concentrate on one thing, Pigeon._

_Ah, right. And concentrate as hard you can. Probably isn't much._

A feeble little wall rose up in front of me. It was an iPod that wavered and flickered, and I easily threw it to the side. _Again. And I suggest you concentrate on something really annoying, it'll throw off your opponent a bit more._

Dora the explorer slowly expanded into view. She was slightly more concrete than the iPod, but the wall was still rather weak. This time Loshar destroyed it before I could.

_It doesn't have to be an image. Like, you can just keep on repeating a sentence in your head. I do _You are stupid_._

_I like ice cream, I like ice cream, I like ice cream, _thought Pigeon, setting up a decent wall.

I formed my consciousness into a grenade and blasted the shield to the side. _Not bad. So, can you feel me in your mind?_

_Yes, _came the reply. He sounded surprised.

"Yes, finally! So you should be able to do magic now!" I said, feigning ecstasy.

"What does telepathy have to do with magic?" asked Pigeon.

"Okay, so go to the back of your mind. See this little orb thing?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's got this red stuff inside it," he said, screwing up his face in concentration.

"Right, so, break it to pieces, and then say deloi reisa. Yeah? Yeah."

Pigeon suddenly looked surprised, and a red aura thing started swirling around the hand with the dirt in it. "Deloi reisa," he gasped, and the soil zoomed straight up, stopped about an inch above him for three seconds, and dropped directly onto the ground. Pigeon staggered back a few steps, as if someone had just punched him. "What- How-"

"Yeah, yeah, that was fun and all, but do you know where Rillon is? And what's Bone Guard?" I asked Loshar, cutting Pigeon off.

"I am not teaching you any more magic," Loshar muttered. Then, louder, he said, "Do you mean Vroengard?"

"What? Yeah, that thingie, Bone Guard or whatever it's called."

"Vroengard is an island to the west. And Rillon is over there." Loshar gestured at the tree Rillon had vanished into a while ago.

"Ah, right, thanks." I ran to the tree.


	27. A Pie Made of Cheese

I peered into the dark interior of the enormous tree. My eyes slowly grew accustomed to the dim lighting, and I sauntered in.

Tables and benches and a big counter had been grown out of the tree, and elves were sitting around, most of them with intricately carved wooden cups that probably disguised gallons of alcoholic beverages. Behind the counter were even more cups that sat on racks, and a big barrel with a tap and a label on it that said **Faelnirv**. I had a strong feeling of deja vu.

Rillon was sitting by himself in a corner, chatting animatedly to this big ball of blueish light hovering across from him.

I made a beeline for him and plopped myself down next to him on the bench.

He stopped talking to the light and turned. All I had to see were his flaming red cheeks and the cup in his hand to see that he was drunk.

"Dude, seriously, go easy on the happy juice," I told him, prying his fingers away from the cup and putting the alcohol out of his reach.

Rillon wildly shook his head, and his face went back to its normal color. "Dusk," he said.

"How do you recover that fast?" I asked.

He ignored me and gestured to the big ball of light. "That," he said, "is Du Draumr Kopa, but just Draumr Kopa when it is being addressed directly."

I eyed the fluffy floating orb of light. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

Something knocked politely on my mental front gate. I shouted at it, _What?_

Another knock.

And then I was suddenly reminded of why I had gone there in the first place. "Hey, Rillon, you need to find Fritos."

Rillon winced. He glanced around furtively, then lowered his voice and hissed at me, "Shh! Du Draumr Kopa just told me the story of Dgaou- Fritos. It...is not pleasant. You should not mention his name where an elf can hear you."

"Sheesh, I never even mentioned his name. I call him Fritos. His name is actually Hsot-"

"_Quiet_," he hissed.

"-grihbfarkfb. They've got nothing in common."

Knock number three.

_Go away, _I snapped.

"Listen, just find him, alright? I promise you won't regret it. I think." I stood up and sauntered back out.

* * *

><p>There was suddenly a deafening <em>boom <em>and a lot of multicolored smoke in Galbatorix's gargantuan throne room.

Galbatorix had been wandering around the throne room like he always did when he was impatient, anxious, or bored. He yelled, "Gah!" and scrambled away from the smoke, covering his ears.

Shruikan, who had been dozing in the corner, woke up and looked around.

A few soldiers rushed in, but Galbatorix shooed them away with a wave of his hand. They retreated and closed the throne room doors behind them, glaring suspiciously at the clouds of rainbow smoke.

_What did you just do? _asked the dragon.

"I didn't do anything!" Galbatorix protested. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Ryoja du reykr. Clear the smoke."

The smoke vanished.

There, lying on the polished marble floor, was a fifteen year old girl. With purple wings.

They both stared. She had long black hair, a purple lamarae shirt and shorts, and there was a silver necklace with a few amethysts set in it around her neck. Said necklace could also probably feed a poor family of six for a month. Silver wasn't a cheap metal by any means.

One of the kings of Alagaesia prodded the prone form tentatively with his boot. The girl moaned and rolled over, and Galbatorix jumped back.

"Where am I?" the girl slurred, her bright blue eyes fluttering open. Then she saw Galbatorix, and she screamed. "Are," she gasped, "are you trying to kidnap me?"

_I'd more like to know how you got in here, _said Shruikan.

Either the kid was dim or she was dim, because she didn't seem to even realize he was there. Shruikan happened to be a huge black dragon who made mansions look like crabs. "Don't try to deny it, I know what you were trying to do. But I'm awake now, and I- I know karate! Don't come any closer, or I swear you'll regret it!" She scrambled back and stood, holding up her fists. "Great, keep calm," she muttered, breathing heavily, "just some old guy trying to kidnap me, nothing to worry about, I can handle this."

_What?_

"Right, what did you do with my memory? What is this place? Who're you? I swear, if you don't tell me, I'm- I'm gonna call the cops!"

_Do you understand what she's saying? _Galbatorix asked.

_Not really._

"What are you talking about?" said Galbatorix.

"What am I- Are you filming a movie?" the girl said, confused, taking in the throne room, Galbatorix's clothes and sword, and Shruikan.

"A what?"

The girl suddenly looked over her shoulder and saw her large purple wings. She screamed again. She began tugging on one wing, as if trying to pull it off, then stopped. "Ow," she murmured. Then she flopped onto the ground and started crying.

_I hate that noise so much, _said Shruikan.

Galbatorix suddenly had a gleam of inspiration. His mental self sat on it when Shruikan came shuffling by, and then he pulled it out again while the dragon lumbered off in the other direction, muttering darkly. "You want to know where you are?"

The girl looked up and sniffled. "Yes."

Galbatorix smiled internally. "All you have to do is say something, and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

_That's ridiculous, _Shruikan snapped. _There's no way she'll ever fall for something that stupid, especially worded like that. She-_

She looked uncertain, but nodded slowly.

Shruikan stared, utterly dumbfounded. _Is she really that stupid?_

_See? s_aid Galbatorix smugly. It wasn't everyday that Galbatorix would suggest something that Shruikan said wouldn't work, and then it actually _did _work. In fact, he remembered that happening a grand total of once, and that was when the two of them had made a bet on whether it was possible to make a pie out of cheese. Shruikan had thought it was insane and would never work, and then they got all of the best bakers together to try, and they had failed completely and wrecked the kitchen, and then Galbatorix had gone down and tried his hand at it even though he had never cooked before in his life, and he had somehow managed to do it and it came out fantastic, and then he had eaten it every day for a month just to annoy the dragon (they never did get it as good as the first time though), and then he got sick of it...

_You were lucky this time, _Shruikan said irritably. _Anyone with half a heart could see through that._

_She _doesn't _have half a brain, though, _said Galbatorix. Where humans said brain, dragons said heart, since their brains really did nothing except sit around and look pretty — well, disgusting — while their Eldunari did all the thinking. At least, that was the general consensus among the dragons, who really weren't the best at science and were simply guessing. However, when you could cough out your soul in a rock with no brain in it and still think, it wasn't a hard guess to make.

Galbatorix turned his attention back to the real world. "Excellent! Now, just say this: Eka taka pomnuria lif un allunia eom Galbatorix un Shruikan." I pledge my life and allegiance to Galbatorix and Shruikan.

"Huh?"

Galbatorix slowly taught her how to say all the words, and ten minutes later, the girl was ready to unknowingly swear loyalty to the two.

She repeated it. "What was that about?"

"Nothing, nothing," said Galbatorix hastily. "Now what was it you wanted to know about?"

"Everything."

"Okay. Shruikan, you're better at this than I am, get to it."

_Do it yourself._

_Bloody lizard, _Galbatorix thought nastily, turning back to the girl. He began.


	28. Saved By the Bunny Hole

Eragon sat up sleepily, rubbing his eyes, then proceeded to fold his blankets and cook breakfast. Saphira, Brom, and Murtagh were still asleep. Brom was snoring loudly.

The four were camped in a conveniently placed grove of trees with a large clearing in the center. It was to the west of Furnost. The day before, they had replenished their supplies at the town before meeting in the grove with Saphira.

Brom moaned and rolled over, right onto Murtagh, who kept sleeping, oblivious to the heavy old man lying on top of him. Then Brom's drool began to drip into Murtagh's ear, and he sat bolt upright, knocking Brom off him.

"Ah!" he shouted, rubbing at his ear furiously, trying to get rid of the saliva.

Brom got up, grumbling, and Saphira's eyes opened as well.

The Rider and dragon watched the brawl. Brom and Murtagh were rolling on the grass, shouting angrily and punching and kicking each other. Brom was ahead.

Saphira raised her head, sniffing the air suspiciously. _That's strange._

_What is it? _asked Eragon.

The dragon shook her head. _It's probably nothing. _But she still looked uneasy.

"I guess I'll have to eat all the breakfast by myself," Eragon proclaimed loudly, putting out the fire and getting ready to dump the scalding meat stew directly into his mouth. He wouldn't really, but it was bound to get their attention.

Murtagh and Brom immediately stopped fighting. Actually, Murtagh stopped fighting, and Brom couldn't very well attack someone who wouldn't fight back. It took the fun out of it. They all ate breakfast.

When they were done and full and ready to set out again, loud yells suddenly came from the direction of Furnost. Yells like "Capture them!" and "Death to the enemies!" Then someone pointed out, "We're not supposed to kill them though." There was a brief silence, and the four could practically hear the other soldiers giving him the death glare. Then they went back to shouting.

Murtagh and Brom and Eragon all scrambled onto Saphira, who beat her wings furiously and took off. Once they cleared the tree line, they saw that there was a great big mob of soldiers stumbling across the countryside. One of the smarter ones pointed at them and shouted, "Look, there they are!"

But the four were already too high for the soldiers to do anything about them. Therefore, the soldiers didn't do anything about them. Instead, a tall pale man with a black cape and black armor and red eyes and red hair in the rear of the mob cried, "Letta!"

_It's Durza! _Saphira struggled against the magic, but couldn't do a thing.

Durza shouted more stuff, and Saphira, as well as her three passengers, were slowly forced closer to the ground.

Luckily for them, Durza stepped into a bunny hole and lost his concentration. Unluckily for them, Murtagh, who had still been cleaning the spit out of his ear, fell off Saphira when she jerked upward.

"_No!" _Saphira, Brom, and Eragon shouted simultaneously. Saphira flipped so that she was pointed down, ready to rescue the screaming Murtagh, but the sudden movement caught Brom off guard and he, too, was thrown off her back.

_Saphira! _Eragon cried, sounding awfully accusing.

_You can't blame me! I can't fly if I'm looking at my back the whole time! Why weren't_ you_ paying attention?_

Right then, Durza managed to tug his foot out of the hole. He shouted, "Sonapae!"

Murtagh and Brom, who were both screaming their heads off, with Murtagh screaming normally while Brom was screaming curses at Saphira and Eragon both, slowed down considerably. They hit the ground with just enough force to stun them, and they were quickly surrounded by soldiers before they could do anything.

"No," whispered Eragon. Then, to Saphira, _We need to save them!_

_You save them, _Saphira snapped. _There's a Shade and about a hundred soldiers down there! How does it help them any if we get captured as well? _ Saphira winged off to the west, ignoring Eragon's anguished pleas.

* * *

><p>"This place is boring," I said, yawning despite the fact that it was noon.<p>

"Then can you please teach me how to fly?" Pigeon asked hopefully.

"Maybe, if I knew how."

"You said you could fly earlier," said Pigeon accusingly.

"I can, I just don't know how to teach you. I learned when a dragon dumped me off her back in midair," I said. "But I can't carry you, so that won't work. Wait, is there any big cliff or tree around here?"

"All the trees here are big," Pigeon pointed out.

"Fine. Find a really big one and climb it."

He complied, looking around and finding the tallest one around, which was at least two hundred feet tall. Then he began scrambling up the tree like a squirrel, with me flying around behind him, bored.

Once he was perched in a branch at the top after half an hour, I landed next to him.

"You have to be quick," I told him. "Jump, then just spread out your wings. You'll know what to do after that."

"Jump?" he asked in disbelief. "From here? I'll break my neck."

"Yeah, you will," I agreed. Then I pulled out my dagger and brought it down on the branch where it connected with the tree.

"What are you doing?" Pigeon shouted desperately, trying to keep his balance on the shaking branch.

I turned and grinned insanely at him while still sawing away with my dagger, which cut through the wood like butter. Like, the wood was butter, not the dagger. It would suck if the dagger was butter. It'd be all hot and gooey and fatty and- I'll stop now. "I'm teaching you how to fly."

There was a loud _snap _and the branch fell. Pigeon held onto it tightly, screaming, and I folded my wings and dived down after him.

"Let go of that thing!" I shouted. When he wouldn't listen, I also grabbed onto the branch and slammed my dagger hilt onto Pigeon's hands. He let go. I think I might've broken a few fingers, actually, but that's not the point. "Now, _spread your wings_!" I glared at him when he didn't move. He seemed to be paralyzed or something. "Why do I have to do everything?" I grabbed one of his red wings and tugged at it so that it unfurled. He must've come back to his senses, because he stretched out his other wing as well.

Then he was whooping, his fear completely gone. He angled himself just before he could hit the ground so that he curved upwards. I spread my wings and followed him.

"I believe I can fly," I muttered as we broke through the canopy, disturbing a big group of birds which proceeded to poop all over the place, conveniently missing me. I shoved my dagger back into the sheath on my leg, then zoomed up to Pigeon and right past him without any difficulty.

"Hey!" he called.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning and beating my wings furiously to hover.

Pigeon tried to copy my example, but his wings couldn't hold him place and he just took to flying circles around me instead, forcing me to turn with him. "How do you fly so fast?"

"Practice," I said, rolling my eyes, "and you're fat. By the way, I'm not staying here any longer."

"What? Where're you going?" he asked curiously.

"Bone Guard."

"What's Bone Guard?"

"According to Loshar, it's this island somewhere."

"What are you going there for?"

"None of your business. Bye!" I turned north. At least, I figured it was north, because the sun rose in the east, and I vaguely remembered which direction the sun had been in in the morning, and north was just to the left of the rising sun. No, wait, it was to the right. Or was it left?

"I'm coming with you!"

"Sure, why not? Come at your own risk."

And with that, we sped off. The elves were going to be pretty annoyed when they figured out we were gone; we had to speed.


	29. Introducing the Second Sue

_Little one, there was nothing we could do, _said Saphira, watching Eragon throw a stick angrily into the fire.

_Yes there was! We could have grabbed Brom and Murtagh before they fell! _Eragon shouted mentally at her.

_What about Durza? _asked Saphira calmly.

"What about him?"

_He is much stronger than you, maybe even more than you, Murtagh, and Brom together, and he can use magic. Do you remember how he held me in the air so easily? Do you think you could defeat him?_

"Alright, Murtagh wasn't your fault," Eragon admitted grudgingly. "But Brom was. If you hadn't suddenly turned around like that, he wouldn't have lost his grip."

_I thought he would be able to hold on. After all, you managed._

"What does me holding on have to do with Brom falling off?"

_...Nothing. It must have been me. _She curled up and feigned sleep and steadfastly ignored all of Eragon's attempts to talk to her.

* * *

><p>Murtagh woke up.<p>

He was in a dark cell, lit only by torches outside. Three sides of the cell were walls of black rock, and the fourth was metal bars with a barred door set in it.

"Brom?" he asked.

There was a groan from the cell across from his, and he saw Brom lying in a corner of it.

"I hate being drugged," the old man complained.

"Hey!" came a rough voice from down the passage. "Shut up back there!"

"Make us!" Brom shouted back.

"Aren't you even slightly worried?" Murtagh asked.

"I know Galbatorix. He's good at killing things, but intelligence and imagination were never his strong points. I always got better scores on tests than him," said Brom.

From the end where the voice had come from came footsteps. A man with sunny blonde hair and a white robe decorated with intricate designs of a thread that matched his hair came to a stop in front of Brom's cell. Murtagh shrank back.

"Galbatorix," Brom said, looking like he would like nothing better than to have his hands around the king's throat.

Galbatorix let out a maniacal cackle that made Murtagh cover his ears and wince. "I'm glad you haven't forgotten me, Brom!" he boomed. Then he frowned and waved at some unseen thing, as if swatting a fly. In a normal voice, he continued, "How's your son doing?"

"Fine. If you're going to kill me-" began Brom, but Galbatorix cut him off.

"Kill you?" he asked, looking genuinely puzzled. "Why would we do that? We mean, we had you brought all the way over here. If we'd wanted you dead, you'd already be dead."

Murtagh wondered why he always said "we" instead of "I". He'd heard of third-person speaking, but this was new.

Galbatorix then turned to Murtagh. He beckoned, and a servant ran over and proffered a purple silk cushion with a large red stone resting on it.

"Hello, Murtagh. Do you mind holding this for me?" Without waiting for an answer, Galbatorix pushed the door open – a door, incidentally, that had been locked half a second before – and took the stone carelessly from the servant, then tossed it to Murtagh.

Galbatorix winced as the rock hit Murtagh's head with a dull _clunk _and an angry squeak came from it. The servant hurried away as Galbatorix said, seemingly to himself, "Alright, alright! I won't do that again."

Murtagh lay on the ground, stunned. He slowly sat up and rubbed his head, then looked at the stone, which was rolling around on the floor. A long crack had appeared in it.

The king frowned. "Did that crack come from when it hit your head or because you're his Rider? No matter! We'll find that out soon enough."

"What do you mean, its- Oh." A piece of the eggshell had fallen off, and a little red head was poking through. There was a scrabbling noise from inside the egg.

Murtagh had nearly fallen asleep by the time the dragon finally tumbled out of its shell three hours later.

The baby dragon trundled over to Murtagh, who blinked at it slowly, came back to his sense, and quickly backed away from it.

Galbatorix had already gotten the servant to bring a lot of raw meat down, and he threw it over to Murtagh. The dragon squeaked and stumbled over to it.

"Go on, feed him," said Galbatorix encouragingly.

Not wanting to get on the wrong side of the king, Murtagh took up one of the pieces of meat and gave it to the dragon. It was awfully cute, he thought. Not very dragonish.

When all the meat was gone, Murtagh tried petting it. He promptly fell unconscious. Brom groaned despairingly.

"Guards!" the king shouted at nobody in particular. About thirty guards seemingly appeared from thin air next to him. "Take them upstairs, to the room next to the dragonhold, and guard the window and the door." He paused, and then said, "Actually, forget the door. Just lock it. Shruikan says nobody ever escapes by the door, and it kind of makes sense. Not really."

The guards nodded frantically. They filed in, picked up Murtagh and the baby dragon (who snorted and climbed over all the guards' hands onto Murtagh, where it fell asleep) and carried them out.

* * *

><p>Murtagh regained consciousness in a humongous white bed. Strangely, the rest of the big room he was in and all the other furniture was black. The window was open and there was a cool breeze blowing through it. There was also a warm something on his stomach, and his palm was tingling. When he looked, he saw that there was a large silver blob on it.<p>

He raised his head and saw the red dragon curled up on his stomach, snoring peacefully. He poked it, and it wriggled and blew a few puffs of smoke. Murtagh felt annoyed, although he didn't know why, and prodded it again. The dragon snorted irritably and opened its red eyes. It stood up, stretched, and yawned, showing lots of little white fangs, before it leaped gracefully off the bed.

Someone knocked, there was the sound of a key turning in a lock, and the door opened before Murtagh could say "Enter".

Murtagh hastily grabbed the lizard off the ground and hid it under the blankets. The dragon gave a little peep, but otherwise didn't protest against being stuffed unceremoniously under the covers.

Murtagh could only stare. The girl looked to be maybe a few years younger than him, and she was stunningly beautiful. She had gone a bit heavy on the make-up, but she had done it so skillfully that it made her look even more attractive. Her eyes were like polished sapphires; her silky raven hair fell in ripples down to her waist. Her clothes were made of the same purple fabric as Dusk's clothes, but the two girls' styles were drastically different. The girl had on a knee-length skirt and a shirt that showed some of her middle, and Murtagh would have blushed and turned away had he not been so entranced by her appearance. A silver necklace adorned her neck, with the amethysts set in it sparkling brightly despite the fact that it was evening and the room's window faced east. A star amethyst, larger than the other jewels, was in the center of the jewelery. Her body physique was just as perfect as the rest of her. Two violet wings peeked out coyly from behind the girl's back.

If Murtagh had been a normal American teenager from twenty-first century Earth, his first thought would have been, _Oh. My. God. Dang, she is hot._

If Murtagh had been a writer from twenty-first century Earth, his first thought would have been, _MARY SUE! _Or something like that, anyways.

However, he was neither of these. He was the only son of Galbatorix's chief assistant, and therefore his first thought was, _Urg._

That was his first word, too.

The girl plopped herself down next to him. "Hello," she said, giving him a winning smile. Her voice sounded like a wonderfully tuned harp, and a nightingale, and every other gorgeous-sounding thing that Murtagh had ever heard or fantasized about hearing.

"Who're you?" Murtagh finally managed to get out.

"Nuanen," the girl told him cheerfully. "What are you called?"

"Nuanen. No, uh, wait, I meant, uh, Murtagh!" he stuttered. He found he couldn't take his eyes off Nuanen.

"That's a nice name," said Nuanen sincerely.

"Thank you," said Murtagh.

"I hear you're a Dragon Rider now. Congratulations!"

Murtagh caught a whiff of the girl's scent. He didn't know whether it was perfume or not, but it didn't matter. It smelled like a mixture of all the nice-smelling flowers in the world mixed with cake and sugar and honey and morning dew and everything else Murtagh liked. It was intoxicating. "Umm, thanks." He felt as if he were missing something.

"Your dragon is red, isn't it?" Nuanen asked.

"Oh, right!" Murtagh pulled the dragon out from under the blankets. He felt uneasiness and a small bit of dislike for some odd reason, and even more strange, it was directed at Nuanan. Murtagh shrugged it off. He must be going mad. "Yes, it is red," said the Rider stupidly.

"It's gorgeous," gasped Nuanen. "Not to be mean to Shruikan, but red scales are much prettier than his black ones." The dislike immediately vanished and changed to content and pleasure. Murtagh realized that it must have been the dragon's thoughts he was feeling. "Have you given it a name yet?"

"Err, uh, no, not yet," said Murtagh. Then, not wanting to disappoint Nuanen, he added, "I was thinking maybe Thorn."

"Thorn? I don't think it fits," Nuanen said, and the dragon squeaked in agreement.

"Oh, then, uh." Murtagh began wracking his mind for a suitable name, which was made harder because Nuanen was looking at him the whole time. Finally, he found one that he thought fit. "Talos." He had heard it before from somewhere, but he wasn't sure where.

"Talos is a type of cactus," stated Nuanen, staring strangely at him. Then she smiled again. "But it does have a nice ring to it. And at least this is the entire cactus and not just one thorn."

The newly-named Talos purred.

Nuanen stood. "I just came to see the two of you," she said brightly, walking over to the door. "His Majesty told me that you don't like him, Murtagh, and that he had to send Durza out to capture you. But I'm sure that you'll soon find that this is the good side, and that the Varden rabble are just a large group of angry people who don't like the way the King and Shruikan run the Empire. King Galbatorix doesn't want to force you to do anything, really, but he will if he has to."

She opened the door and slipped out, saying, "Good-bye, Murtagh. We'll see each other again soon, I'm sure." Then she gave him another smile before the door was closed and locked, leaving behind a very confused Murtagh and a little red dragon named after a cactus.

A day after his meeting with Nuanen, the door was unlocked.

That in itself was nothing remarkable. After all, it could just be a servant taking out the food tray. Murtagh glanced back at the platters piled high with all sorts of good food. He had barely finished half. Talos had been eating just as well, and he had already grown to Murtagh's waist. What were they putting in there?

A servant did indeed come and take away the tray. But the door was not locked behind him, and that was strange. In the evening, when a huge dinner had been set down on the large table in the center of the room, the door was still not locked.

Murtagh was unable to eat any more than a single plate, but Talos ate just as much as he had had for lunch. The dragon was going to be taller than him in the morning, Murtagh thought.

Finally, when the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon and the plates had been taken down to the kitchen, Murtagh stood and declared, "I'm going to explore."

He had been to Galbatorix's castle before, of course, but he hadn't explored back then. Anyways, the door hadn't been locked for half the day already, and that meant that either all the soldiers and servants had suddenly decided to play a game of poker down in the dungeons (which Galbatorix would of course kill all of them for) or Galbatorix wanted him to leave the room. The latter was more likely.

Talos stood and stretched, yawning, then followed Murtagh out of the room. All the rooms and hallways and doors were designed for beings slightly larger than Shruikan, so that dragons of nearly any size could wander through the castle with ease. Relatively, anyways. There were bound to have been dragons bigger than Shruikan before he went and killed all of them.

The first place the two checked out was the room directly to the right of their own. The circular door was stone, and after a lot of grunting and heaving, Murtagh finally managed to roll it into a cavity in the wall designed specifically for it.

The room was huge. Absolutely huge. There was no ceiling, but panes of glass attached to the tops of the walls were folded in a corner. A lever underneath them showed that they could be extended to cover the room in bad weather. Dragon-sized moss- and cloth-lined hollows dotted the room. A large bin near the door had a few haunches of fresh meat in it. Lots of large windows were set into the walls. Obviously, the place was the dragonhold.

_I was wondering when you would leave your room. _Murtagh and Talos both jumped at the voice.

"Who's there?" Murtagh called.

A huge black dragon rose up from the shadows in the back corner. How he had managed to hide was a complete mystery. Shruikan stretched his wings, which weren't even close to spanning the width of the hold, then folded them close against his body. He walked over and hooked his claws around a small iron ring in the side of the door, then easily pulled it closed again.

_Murtagh, Talos, _said Shruikan, inclining his head to each of them in turn.

Talos bumbled over to the other dragon, ignoring Murtagh's cry of, "Careful!"

Shruikan said, sounding amused, _Did you think I would hurt him?_ Talos curled up next to the older dragon.

After a moment of hesitation, Murtagh admitted, "Yes."

_Really? Goodness, Murtagh, I wouldn't hurt a hatchling. Talos is a terrible name, by the way. It's like calling him Cactus, except worse, because it's only one type of cactus._

"He liked it," Murtagh muttered.

_He's less than a week old, _said Shruikan, rolling his eyes. _He likes everything. You could put a rhinoceros in front of him and he would go to sleep._

"A what?"

_It's like a large grey pig, except with a horn and a temper, _Shruikan said. _Anyways, Galbatorix is in the throne room. You know where it is. Talos will stay here with me._

He didn't know, actually, but Shruikan said it in that tone of voice that said that was a fact and he had better not argue with it, so Murtagh didn't.

* * *

><p>We landed on the shore. By we, I mean Pigeon and me.<p>

"What do we do now?" asked Pigeon.

"We wait," I responded, looking out at the waves. There was that familiar salty smell. I'd been to the ocean before, I just couldn't remember when.

"Why're we waiting?"

"Dunno. It just sounds cool."

"Huh?"

"Also, something unexpected is going to happen tonight," I told him.

"What? And how do you know?"

"Not sure what, but I just know. Whenever we the important characters decide to wait while on some dangerous and epic journey, something will happen in the middle of the night. Read fanfiction much?"

"No, I like Youtube more."

"You suck."

After a long pause, I said, "Hiz. Youz wannaz practize magicz?"

"Sure."

"Mez firstz. Deloiz reizaz!" As expected, nothing happened.

"I think you should get rid of the Z's," commented Pigeon.

"Oh, shut up. Deloi reisa!" I broke through the glass orb at the back of my mind, and black light burst out. A clump of sand in front of me rose up into the air. With a flick of my hand, I sent the floating sand out into the ocean.

"Deloi reisa," said Pigeon, his face screwed up in concentration. When nothing happened, he repeated it, and an almost invisible grain of sand slowly wobbled into the air, then dropped back down.

"Is this all we can do with magic?" I asked, frowning. "A bit useless, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, I know! Let's experiment! Deloi!" A small patch of sand began glowing black. How does something glow black?

"Deloi is something to do with sand and dirt," Pigeon stated, in the same way one might declare that they had managed to build a rocket that could travel at the speed of light.

I rolled my eyes. "Nah, of course it doesn't. And that means reisa's rise or something. And I know another word, slither or something, and then there was deja vu. No, wait, it was slytha and deyja. Oh, and there was letta too."

"Do you know what they mean?" Pigeon questioned.

"Not really. But slytha's got something to do with fainting or something, because right after Durza said that, Saphira and I both kinda collapsed. And deyja, well, after Fritos said it, some random guy died. And _everyone _uses letta on me! I've heard it enough to know that it means stop."

"Deloi, reisa, slytha, deyja, and letta," muttered Pigeon. "Sand and dirt, rise, faint, die, and stop."

"That's about it," I said, nodding. "Still rather useless, but maybe we can play around with them."

To put a rather long story short, we experimented all the way until nightfall. Turns out that I can do virtually anything with just those five words. Pigeon can't though; he can only make random things die and sleep and fly and stop and he can make sand and dirt glow. We figured out that slytha actually means sleep and deloi is earth, and that made everything a lot easier.

I managed to start a fire with reisa, but I nearly blacked out from it, which sucked. But at least I had figured out how to bend the rules properly. See, as long as something is related, however remotely, to the word you're using, it works. I could probably made a diamond with slytha if I tried. Ooh, I just figured out how to make oil with deyja! There goes our energy problem.

We slept early that night, tired as we were from our little experiments.

As predicted, something vaguely exciting happened at exactly midnight. Actually, I'm not sure what time of night it was, but it was probably midnight.

Anyways, Pigeon and I were woken up by the sound of someone repeatedly farting.

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Thump._

I jumped to my feet and shouted at the sky, "Kindly refrain from passing gas on this side of the mountains, will you!"

An incredulous voice called back, "Dusk?"

I groaned. "Not you again! I wanted an Eragon-free trip."

Saphira landed with a thud next to us. Pigeon sat up groggily, rubbed his eyes, blinked a few times, then shrieked and tried to fly away. I grabbed him before he could do anything stupid.

"Hi, you two. What're you doing here by this stupid little beach?" I asked them. Then I looked back at the charred pile of driftwood that had been our fire and, just to show off, said, "Reisa." The wood caught on fire, and I staggered slightly from the sudden loss of energy.

When I turned back, I saw that Eragon had dismounted and was gaping at me in disbelief. "I'm not going to ask you why you're here," Eragon finally recovered enough to say in a strangled voice, "or who the other person is. All I want to know is, _where did you learn to use magic and how did you just light a fire with reisa_?"

"Oh, an elf with anger issues taught me to use magic," I said brightly, "and lighting a fire with rise is actually pretty easy, but since you don't have awesome hacker skills, you can't do it. I'm actually pretty sure that I'm the only person in Alexander who can do it."

"Alexander," Eragon said flatly.

"Yeah, here."

_What do you mean, 'elf with anger issues'? _asked Saphira.

"I meant an elf with anger issues. And Pigeon, will you stop trying to fly away already? Saphira's perfectly harmless, she wouldn't hurt a fly," I told him, receiving a warning growl and a glare from Saphira. "Well, you wouldn't," I said to the glowering dragon. "You don't hurt flies; you only go for the deer and the soldiers."

"What. Is. That. Thing?" Pigeon demanded, pointing at Saphira with the hand I wasn't holding on to.

I rolled my eyes. "'That thing' is a dragon, dear little Pigeon. And you really shouldn't insult her either, I think she's a bit touchy at the moment."

_That I am, _said Saphira, curling her lip at me slightly. Pigeon jumped and tried to take off again, but I gripped his hand tighter.

"Knock it off," I snapped. Then I turned back to the two of them and asked, "So, what're you doing here? We're going to Bone Guard."

"So are we," said Eragon, looking surprised.

"Great, why're you two going there then?"

He flinched when I said "you two". "Ajihad...told us to," he muttered hesitantly, looking down. He was obviously looking for chances to angst. I wasn't going to let him.

"When're we leaving?"

"What? Oh, umm, we were planning on tomorrow morning," said Eragon, startled. Ha, try angsting now, Eragon.

"Alright. G'night." I promptly fell onto the ground and started snoring.

Morning came way too quickly. Eragon shook me awake, and I sat up, grumbling. Pigeon was swimming, and I couldn't see Saphira. Then her head appeared right next to Pigeon, and he gave a frightened shriek and leaped into the air.

I yawned, then slurred, "We leaving?"

"Yes," said Eragon. Saphira trotted over to us and crouched down so Eragon could climb onto her back.

"Great. Hey, breakfast?" I asked hopefully.

"Err, we have fish," he said. He rummaged around in his near-empty supply pack and pulled out a little pouch of dried fish, then tossed it to me. I dumped it all into my mouth almost at the same time I caught it and handed the pouch back before Eragon had even registered that I'd eaten the fish. He took it uncertainly and stowed it into his pack.

"Let's go then." And we took off.

The first half of the day went fine, if it was a bit boring. We could already see the island as a little dot on the horizon, and I figured that we should be able to get there around the next morning, really early. And when I figure something, it's always right.

Evening was when things started going wrong. Well, for them anyways. Nothing ever goes wrong for me.

A really strong wind suddenly came from the direction of the island and blasted all of us back. All I could hear was the roar of the wind (or it might have been Saphira), and then the wind was gone. I flipped onto my back, still flying forwards, and checked out whether Pigeon and Saphira and Eragon were all right.

Turned out they weren't. Strangely enough, the wind around me had vanished, but it was still pushing the other three back. Weird island. I guess it liked me.

Then there was another blast of wind, and it sent them hurtling back towards the mainland. I seemed to be the only one that had figured out that the island didn't like them, so I called with my mind, _Mainland! Now! Shove it! I'll see you guys later!_

I was pretty sure that they all wanted to protest, but trying to resist the wind was draining all their concentration. Despite their efforts, they were all blown back.

I snorted, turned, and continued on my merry little way.


	30. Two Sentences

Murtagh walked into the throne room. Sitting at the end was Galbatorix, snoring loudly with his head supported by his hand and his elbow on the arm of the black throne shaped like a dragon. Standing next to his throne was Nuanen, who had been staring off into space but turned to smile at Murtagh as he came in.

Galbatorix suddenly jerked awake and stared at Murtagh, then blinked and seemed to come fully awake. He greeted them. "Good afternoon, Murtagh! Do you find your room and the service to your liking?"

Murtagh bowed, then straightened up again. "They are excellent, Your Majesty," he said. He tried not to look at Nuanen, because whenever he did, his cheeks would go red and he would lose all his concentration.

"Good, good," the king muttered. He gestured at Nuanen and said, "Nuanen here tells me you have met already, and that the dragon is now called Talos."

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Murtagh carefully. Then, before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "I thought Dusk was the only human in Alagaesia with wings."

"Dusk?" asked Galbatorix. "The one with the black wings? Yes, so did we, until Nuanen here appeared in the throne room one day." He smiled rather fondly at the girl. "Do you know, Murtagh, how long it took for her to learn the ancient language?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"Two days!" Galbatorix crowed. "Two days, and she could speak it fluently on the third. Then she learned how to write it on the fourth." He shook his head. "I don't know how she does it. I'm teaching her the dwarf language now, and she has already grasped the pronunciation and the basic words and the sentence structures."

"Oh, it is not I, Your Majesty," Nuanen responded sweetly. "It is simply that you are a wonderful teacher."

Galbatorix gave a great booming laugh that made Murtagh wince. "I don't know how we thought that you were stupid on your first day with us. But, Murtagh, you didn't come here so we could discuss Nuanen," he said, turning back to the young Rider. "We are here today so that we may learn where your loyalties lie and act accordingly." Murtagh decided that Galbatorix was a moron, insulting Nuanen right in front of her, but he buried the thought deep in his mind.

"My loyalty is with you, Your Majesty," said Murtagh without hesitation. He had thought about it a lot since Nuanen had visited him the other day, and he had finally been forced to agree with the girl. After all, how could someone like Nuanen ever be wrong?

Galbatorix blinked, as if he hadn't been expecting Murtagh to give in so easily, then said, "Then, to prove your loyalty, you must swear an oath to us."

Nuanen asked, "Must Talos pledge himself to you as well, Sire?"

"Ye-" he began, but Shruikan snapped something, and he quickly corrected, "No, there won't be any need for that."

Murtagh hesitated, then repeated the oath after Galbatorix.

The king nodded. "Now that we have that sorted out, I will tell you your training schedule. Murtagh, you and Talos will learn the different languages from Nuanen in the morning. After lunch, Murtagh, you will train with me in magic and sword-fighting, and Talos will be taught by Shruikan. After dinner, you two will be left to do as you please in the castle."

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Murtagh respectfully. The schedule didn't seem all that bad, especially the part with Nuanen, he thought dreamily.

"You are dismissed. Your lessons begin tomorrow."

* * *

><p>"Now I <em>am <em>good at guessing," I muttered, landing on the shore of Bone Guard or whatever the stupid island's called. It was morning, just like I had predicted. Alright, maybe it was bit dark, but it was still technically morning. Possibly one o'clock. Or two. Or three, or four, or five, or whatever.

The island was a sandy beach for maybe a mile, and then it turned into forest. In the air, I had seen that after the woods came a tundra/wasteland dotted with the occasional rocky hill, and after that, there had been your typical deserted ruins on your typical deserted island.

"Now, why'd I land again? Oh right, whenever you get to some weird island that's got its own defense mechanism, you're supposed to land. No, wait, I've got it wrong, you're supposed to get ship-wrecked and everybody is supposed to be dead except you and you're supposed to be starving and nearly insane and looking for fresh water. Eh, landing's the same thing as getting ship-wrecked, I suppose. And now I'm talking to myself, so that must mean I'm mad, so I've at least got one part of that thing right. Huzzah."

Just then, Fritos appeared out of nowhere.

"Gah!" I shouted, falling down. He pulled me back up.

"Hello, Dusk," he said cheerfully. Rillon materialized right next to me.

Rillon frowned. "Jatiuhedthbg, you did not tell me Dusk was going to be here as well."

"I did not know she would get here so soon."

"You could have scryed."

"Rillon, you cannot scry this island," said Fritos patiently.

Rillon scowled, turned to the ocean, and shouted impressively, "Draumr kopa!" Nothing happened.

"So, what are you two doing here?" I asked, recovering from my shock.

"The same thing you are," said Fritos. He glanced over at the forest. "It will take us two days to walk to where we need to go."

I waved my hand at him dismissively. "It'll take me three hours. Toodles!" I was about to jump into the air when Fritos said, "Wait!"

"Great, what now?" I said.

"I said it would take us two days to _walk_," he said. "We do not need to walk. We- Ah, here it comes."

"What, is there supposed to be a jet or something around here?" I asked, half expecting to see a plane pop up in front of me.

"No," said Fritos. He stared intently at something that only he could see.

I sighed. "And here I was, thinking _I _was mad."

Rillon muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "You are."

Then there was the rather annoying feeling of being pulled inside out and being hammered repeatedly over the head by a drunk giant, and the next I knew, we were standing on a big, flat rock in the middle of the wasteland, halfway across the humongous island, with a city's crumbling ruins in front of us.

There was a long pause, then I broke it with a flat word: "Ow."

Seeing as things like appearing out of thin air on that island, two very very big detached free-floating red eyes suddenly coming into view didn't creep me out as much as you would think. And they appeared in the shadows of an ivy-covered — well, wall wasn't quite the right word, but whatever — not in the sunlight, so I wasn't too freaked out.

Something brushed away my permanent mental wall, and I recognized it as the same thing from Du Weldenvarden.

"What do you want?" I asked aloud.

Fritos hissed at me angrily, then sank into a respectful bow.

As was expected, Rillon and I both stared. From my experience, elves were rather arrogant little jerks(a bit like me, except without the sense of humor), so one bowing was one of the strangest things I'd ever seen.

The a white claw that was as long as my whole body materialized out of the shadows and made this weird flicking motion. Fritos rose up out of the bow, and the claw retreated back into the shadows.

_You may leave us now, Trflisfnldfj, _said the vaguely feminine voice, and Fritos inclined his head slightly, then vanished.

"You know, this is just creepy."

The red eyes turned to me and Rillon. _Dusk, Rillon, _said the weird voice, who I am just going to call Creepy for now because "the weird voice" is way too long. _I have waited a long time to meet you._

"Right, that's jolly and wonderful and all that nice little stuff, but seriously, why do people keep vanishing and popping out of nowhere on this stupid island and who the hell are you?" I demanded.

_Peace, Dusk, _said Creepy. _All shall be revealed._

"That's beautiful. So, is it gonna be revealed now or what?"

Creepy just kept on looking at me until I started fidgeting. Then she said, _One of the reasons I chose you instead of Pigeon was because of your complete lack of respect. However, you would do well to guard your tongue in front of me._

I translated that into understandable English and figured out that she meant "Shut up or else". So I shut up.

Then she turned to Rillon. I didn't know what she said, since she wasn't projecting her thoughts to me, but Rillon said everything out loud, so I could piece together what she was saying pretty well. ...Alright, maybe not really. Their conversation was just too weird to understand if you couldn't hear what Creepy was saying.

"Who are you?" Rillon asked, slightly more politely that I had been.

Creepy said something. Rillon's mouth dropped open. Creepy said something else. Rillon pulled out his sword.

"You-" he began, getting ready to run at Creepy's approximate location while randomly swinging away with his sword, but Creepy must've said some more stuff, because Rillon dropped his sword and gaped at her. "No..." he whispered. "You are lying!"

Creepy choked on something. Then I figured out she was laughing. This time, she actually let me in on the conversation. _No, Rillon. I do not lie._

I had a really strong urge to shout, "You just did!"

_But that is not why I brought you here. I wish for you to join me. Both of you._

I thought about it. It sounded like a horrible deal. "What'll we get out of it?" I asked finally.

_Dusk, I know that you find magic to be...annoying when it is used on you. I can protect you from all but the most creative of spells. I can ward you from all illness. I can heal you when you are injured, no matter the distance. Later on, if you have carried out your orders proficiently, there will be other benefits as well. Many others. _The red eyes turned to Rillon. Creepy must've said something to him, because he hesitated, then nodded slowly.

I thought about it again. It didn't sound all that bad anymore. There was still a problem, though. A few, actually. "Alright, first, what is joining you supposed to mean and why don't you ally with the Varden and who are you anyways?"

_Becoming my vassals will mean that you will carry out my orders. I do not wish to control every aspect of your lives, but when I call upon you, you shall obey. I do not ally myself with the Varden because we are not on the same side. Does that answer your questions?_

I noticed that she ignored my third question, but I decided to let her go on that. The part where she wasn't on the same side as the Varden was definitely strange, though. If she wasn't with the Varden, then she had to be with Gabriel. Except Fritos worked for Creepy, and he didn't exactly like Shrew Can all that much. Unless she controlled her own faction? I didn't really want to get stuck on the wrong side of a three way war, because that was what it was starting to sound like, but that offer of protection against magic didn't sound too bad either...

I shrugged. "Let's get thing over with then. So, I need to say something, right?"

Creepy's eyes gleamed. I really did hope that I wouldn't regret this decision.

* * *

><p>I stumbled and quickly spread out my wings for balance. My right one hit Rillon, who had also been staggering around the place, and knocked him down. Only Fritos didn't seem bothered at all at being teleported from some random island out in the middle of nowhere to the mainland coast a long way away.<p>

Rillon jumped back up and I folded my wings. I just noticed Eragon and Saphira and Pigeon then, gawking at us. Smirking, I asked innocently, "What?" At least, I tried innocent, but I don't think it worked.

"First that wind blew _us _back and let _you _pass, and now you three just pop out of thin air? What was _on _that island?" demanded Pigeon.

I yawned. "Santa Claus."

"_Who?" _asked Saphira, Eragon, Rillon, Fritos, and Pigeon simultaneously, except the first four asked curiously while with Pigeon it was more disbelievingly.

"Right, so, intros again," I continued, ignoring all of them. "The glow-in-the-dark elf's Rillon and the other one's Fritos and the dragon's Saphira and that little dimwit standing next to her's Eragon. Oh, and you all know me and Pigeon. You had better, anyways. So, now that that's over with, we need to get to...Strudel, was it?"

"Surda," Eragon muttered.

"You're going a bit fast," Pigeon said. He turned to the two elves. "What were you two doing on Vroengard?"

"Err," began Rillon, but Fritos cut him off.

"Exploring," he said shortly. Then he said a long string of gibberish to Saphira, and Rillon followed suite. Saphira's gaze softened a lot when she heard that, while Eragon just looked bemused.

"You're elves, right?" he questioned suspiciously.

"Obviously," I answered for them.

Fritos said, "We are well met, Shur'tugal. This is Rillon, and I am *insert unpronounceable word here*, although Dusk prefers to call me Fritos."

"Which is also a brand of chips," Pigeon muttered darkly. We all ignored him.

Eragon frowned. "Trhghchhh- Kforjh- Lefih- Zszyg-"

"*insert unpronounceable word here*," Fritos corrected unhelpfully.

"You know, Fritos _is _easier to pronounce."

"Isn't it?" I said smugly.

"Umm, Hghhhzszchgf, can I call you Fritos as well?" asked Eragon.

"It's fine." And then, quietly and probably to himself, he added, "I should consider changing my name to something more pronounceable."

"You really should," I agreed. Then, "We need to get to Surda."

"Why Surda?" asked Eragon, looking about as confused as anyone possibly could.

"The Varden have mobilized," said Fritos. "They are marching to Surda as we speak."

"Wait, what?" asked Pigeon. "What's the Varden?"

"It's this big group of midgets and random peeps," I explained. "So, yeah, Sudra's over, err, that way! West-north-south!" I pointed in a random direction.

_How do you know they are going to Surda, and why would Ajihad do that? _Saphira asked.

"I know," said Fritos. The unspoken "And that's all _you_ need to know" was pretty obvious.

Saphira and Eragon had a little discussion, then they agreed to go to Surda to check it out, and Rillon and Fritos and Eragon got on Saphira while Pigeon and I flew.

* * *

><p>Galbatorix summoned Murtagh, Talos, Nuanen, Shruikan, and all of the commanders present in Uru'baen at that moment with his mind.<p>

Ten minutes later, everybody was assembled in the big secret room, with Shruikan poking his head through the door. But, seeing as the room lead off of a hidden door in the back of the king's study, it really didn't matter that the door was open, since nobody ever went into Galbatorix's study without permission unless they were trying to commit suicide.

Only seven of the twenty chairs around the oval wooden table were filled, Galbatorix's included. Talos sat curled up next to Murtagh. The red dragon was large enough to ride already, and, because of how much food he was being fed each day, quite chubby and almost as large as Saphira, despite the two's age difference. What had the cooks been putting in that meat anyways? Hormones?

"Good, we're all here," said King Galbatorix, trying to ignore all the empty chairs. "Lark, is there any news from the Varden?"

A tall blonde man winced. "Sire, we haven't had any news from the Twins for the last few...weeks, was it? So we have no information on the dwarves or the Varden."

"And you, Sutozok?" Galbatorix asked. "Is there any news from the rebels?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," a moderately tall brown-eyed black-haired man said, flashing a sneer in Lark's direction that almost immediately vanished. "My informants in the Black Hand have sent word that Surda is playing host to the Varden. It seems that Ajihad has moved the entire Varden to King Orrin's country."

"_My _informants," growled a rather short man with a red beard that stretched nearly to his waist, "have told me that the Varden are on the march to Furnost. _Sir._" He added that last word mockingly.

Sutozok grinned nastily. "Ah, but Dork, are you the Spy Master? No, you are not, which means that it is my job to inform you that your news is terribly outdated. That was the Varden's decoy plan. The actual plan is Surda."

The dwarf, Dolk, was about to say something highly inappropriate to that when Nuanen interrupted. At the sound of her voice, all present stopped what they were doing and gazed at her. Even Galbatorix had to work hard not to jerk his head up. Shruikan was the only one he wasn't affected.

"If they are in Surda," she said thoughtfully, "then that means they have mobilized and are preparing an offensive on our southern front. If unchecked, they will be able to conquer not just Furnost, but also all cities near Surda, and they will also have King Orrin's help in doing so. Success in that maneuver will give them a part of the Empire and will also give confidence to the dwarves and elves, who will follow the Varden and Surda's example, and we will then be trapped in a war on three fronts."

Silence followed this little speech. Galbatorix could swear that was drool sliding down Murtagh's and Lark's chins.

Then the king cleared his throat, which brought everyone back to attention. "Yes, beautifully summarized, Nuanen," he said. Said winged kid blushed modestly. "We cannot allow this to happen. Marc," the remaining man nodded to show that he was listening, "you must cripple the Varden before they can begin their attacks. I am giving you command of-" He hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out what number would be large enough to completely mess up the Varden, and settled on, "One hundred thousand soldiers and magicians. Oh, and I am also giving you access to three hundred cavalry. I would give you more, except with the hundred thousand gone Uru'baen is already vulnerable and I will not risk any more. Lead them well and do not fail me." Marc stood, bowed to Galbatorix, then strode briskly out of the room. Shruikan shifted to give the man room to pass. "Nuanen, Murtagh, Talos, the three of you shall be accompanying him. But not now," he added, when they made to rise. "It will take a few hours at least to assemble the army-"

_Not to mention the supply lines_, added Shruikan.

"-and I must show you something before you leave. Dolk," the dwarf clasped his hands on the table, "tell Marc that you will be going with him on the battle. And be warned, Dolk, if I hear any more...suspicious reports, you will have more than being demoted to contend with." Dolk shrugged nonchalantly and limped out of the room, his permanently injured leg slowing him down. He didn't fight anymore. He was better at strategy anyways, so that was no loss. "Master Sutozok, Lark, you may continue with your duties. Also, figure out what's happened to the Twins, Sutozok, and Lark, try to put some more of your people in the Varden's ranks. If they're in Surda, then they won't be able to monitor everyone who joins." The two men stood, one sneering contemptuously and the other glaring with enough hatred to vaporise diamond, and bank out of the room, their eyes never leaving the opponent's face. Galbatorix would have to make sure to keep them away from each other until they settled their differences. "Come with us," he said, standing as well and beckoning to Nuanen, Murtagh and Talos.

They stopped before the door to the dragonhold and Galbatorix rolled the stone door to the side. He and Shruikan led the other three to Shruikan's shadowy corner and the black dragon shifted the bedding to the side. He tapped a brick with his claw, and the entire hollow that Shruikan normally slept in completely vanished. All the bricks just faded away as if they had never even been there.

Shruikan dived into the hole, and Galbatorix jumped in after him. Talos, Nuanen, and Murtagh followed close behind. It was a short drop, and at the bottom of the hole was a very thick covering of surprisingly clean cotton. Terrible waste, really. Cotton was like gold when it came to prices on the market. Possible even more valuable.

The five were in a huge circular room. It was completely unadorned, without even lanterns or candles or torches. The only light sources were huge piles of glowing different-colored jewels that varied greatly in size. They completely filled the whole room (except for the part with the cotton) and the tallest parts of the enormous piles nearly reached the tall ceiling.

"Woah," Murtagh gasped. Talos involuntarily gave an angry snarl and a whine of delight at the same time. Nuanen looked more than just a little intrigued.

_You are gazing now upon the greatest treasure hoard of this world, _Shruikan said_. This room currently contains all of the last living dragons except one. Two, actually. Or three. It depends on whether an egg counts as a living dragon. Oh, and a few more, too, but you don't need to worry about them.  
><em>

_What do you mean, Shruikan-elda? _asked Talos, staring hungrily at the Eldunarya.

Galbatorix looked up, saw the still-open pit, waved a hand at it, and the bricks rematerialized so that they were shut in. "Each of those gems," said the king, "contains — _is — _a dragon."

Murtagh's mouth fell open. Even Nuanen had to work very hard to stop hers from doing the same.

_Indeed, _agreed Shruikan. _Talos, have you ever before felt your heart-of-hearts?_

_Yes, but what does that have to do with anything? _the young dragon asked.

_Your heart-of-hearts, your Eldunari, essentially _is _you. Normally, this would be told to you only after you and Murtagh had bonded more, but the circumstances deem that this information must be passed on sooner than we had wished. Damn Varden._

"I don't understand," said Murtagh, Talos' confusion winding itself into his words.

_We did not expect you to, _Shruikan said, snorting a small puff of smoke from his nostrils. His voice seemed to be intertwined with thousands of others.

_Hatchlings, _growled a low female voice, _listen well, for this is a secret only the dragons and the Riders know, and now, a winged human as well. But she doesn't matter._

_Two sentences._

A deep male voice cut in. _Our consciousnesses do not reside entirely in our skulls. No, inside of each of us lies a stone-_

_-one that we may live on in even when our flesh doth die, _someone else said, in a failed attempt at old English. They sounded like they were jostling each other. A white rock actually managed to somehow kick a brown pink-flecked one off the pile, and Shruikan had to put it back, deliberately jostling the white one and shooting it an angry glare that made the immobile object tremble and shrink back.

_When a dragon dies, our heart-of-hearts, a clear, colorless stone, shall decay with the body, _continued another.

_But we may expel it whilst we live, and when we choose to do so, that stone will gain the color of the dragon's scales. I was a brilliant lavender before my body died, and now, even in this form, I wear the same shade as that of my former scales._

_Stop hogging the spotlight, _one of the others muttered. _That was two sentences!_

"Why would a dragon want to expel their Eldunari?" Nuanen asked curiously.

_Because, human, _thrummed all the voices, still sounding like they were trying to kill each other, _there are great benefits that may come with it._

One picked up where they had left off. _Through an Eldunari, a dragon might communicate with their Rider even when one stands in the Dwarven Realms and the other in the great city of Doru Araeba, on opposite ends of this land._

_An Eldunari is a dragon's consciousness, _a female dragon interrupted. _Because of this, we work now just as our minds did before, and we may speak through them and do all that we could with our consciousnesses just as we could before they switched to another place._

_Two sentences, _the one from before hissed darkly.

_But with this benefit comes great sacrifice._

_An Eldunari falling into the wrong hands is a dragon with a doomed existence, for whoever holds us holds a dragon's very soul in their hands._

_A horrible fate indeed, _another agreed. _Unless we may convince another to break the stone for us, we are helpless._

_Two-_

_Shut up,_ someone else snapped.

_And when a Rider dies whilst their companion resides in their heart-of-hearts-_

_-the dragon is trapped, unable to join his partner or even to give him a proper dragon's funeral. It is a tortured existence, and after all these years, I still regret that my body is dead and that I cannot join my Lithene in the next world as I so wish._

_Two-_

_Shut up!_

_I will say this if it kills me! _the first one snarled. _Two sentences!_

There was an extremely long pause, then Shruikan said, _Talos, I forbid you to expel your Eldunari until you are at least thirty years old. And Gramal, do shut up._

Talos made no objection to this. He was too busy staring at a large orange Eldunari up at the top of the pile.

Galbatorix said, "Nuanen, Murtagh, each of you will take three Eldunarya with you on your mission." He handed each of them a very big drawstring pouch. "Respect them, and make sure the terrorists do not get their hands on them."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the two said simultaneously. Murtagh suddenly blushed a furious red and turned away.

_Murtagh, do you see the orange Eldunari up there? Can we take her? _Talos asked Murtagh privately.

_Sure, Talos, _said the Rider, puzzled, _but why do you want her?_

Talos growled at him, and Murtagh took a step back. The two were good friends (or as good as they could get in the span of a few days, which wasn't very impressive), and the red dragon had never growled at Murtagh since the day he had learned to speak (that was yesterday, though, so it wasn't saying much).

Shruikan noticed what was going on and followed Talos' gaze up to the Eldunari he wanted to take. He said to Murtagh, _Do as he wants, Murtagh-finiarel._

_Yes, Shruikan-elda, _Murtagh said, sounding confused. He put the orange Eldunari in his bag.

"Your Majesty, why do you want us to take these Eldunarya?" asked Nuanen.

"Neither of you would be able to defeat the blue Rider and the dragon in a fight. However, the Eldunarya will lend you strength for your spells."

Once the five of them had left the Eldunari Room and Nuanen, Talos, and Murtagh had gone off to join Marc, Shruikan curled up on his nest in the dragonhold and Galbatorix took a little trip down to the dungeons. He ignored all the other prisoners and stopped in front of Brom's cell. The old man was sleeping on the cot.

"Brom," said Galbatorix loudly. Brom jolted upright, looking wildly around the cell, then he saw Galbatorix standing outside.

"What do you want?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

The king shrugged. "You eat too much." And, indeed, Brom's stomach was starting to bulge a bit.

"Well, you _do _give me three full meals a day with all the courses," Brom pointed out. "And what do your cooks put in there anyways?"

Galbatorix pretended not to have heard. In truth, he had no idea either, but Brom didn't need to know that. "I hear you're trying to stir up the other prisoners."

"What? Where did you hear that?" he said guiltily.

"We've decided that since if we don't get you out of here all of you are going to break out eventually, we're going to let you go."

"Did I hear you right?" Brom asked incredulously.

"No, not like that, you fool. What we meant is that during the day, you get to go anywhere you want in Uru'baen, but at night, you have to come back here. If you escape the city or fail to come back by midnight, then we will have you recaptured and kept in here until you rot. Without all the food," he added.

Brom kept staring. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. If you would rather stay in here..."

"No, no, I'll go outside," said Brom quickly, getting up from the cot.

Galbatorix beckoned to a conveniently located soldier and whispered something in his ear. The soldier nodded vigorously and charged up the stairs into the main castle. A minute later, he came zooming back down, this time holding a cup of water. The king unlocked the cell door without using the key and handed Brom the cup.

"Drink," he commanded.

Brom drank.

"You haven't swallowed," Galbatorix said, glaring at him.

"Mriow 'oo oi knew ee no' poisoon?" Brom asked, some of the water dribbling down his chin as he spoke.

"It's not," said Galbatorix. "If we wanted you dead, we could have just stabbed you, couldn't we?"

Brom swallowed.

"There was something in there," he said, glaring suspiciously at Galbatorix.

"Obviously. It was that magic-stoppering drug. Now, get out."

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry about the slow updates recently, but I've been occupied with other things (like making up lame excuses).<strong>

**Anyways. Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far, and I've got a question. Which one's plural and which one's singular out of Eldunarya and Eldunari? I keep getting them mixed up, and I think I've gotten it wrong way too many times in this chapter.**


	31. Meanwhile, Red Herrings Swim Ominously

**I have no excuse for not updating beyond general laziness. Sorry!**

**Also, thanks to The M. H. T. of R for helping out with the Eldunari/Eldunarya thing. Eldunari always reminded of cacti, so I thought it was plural for the longest time. I've gone back and edited the chapter to correct that.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>The Burning Plains is a really uncreative name, if you ask me. I mean, seriously, who names some place the Burning Plains?<p>

Anyways, the stupid plains were just a two-mile stretch of rock and sand and stuff, without any plants but moss and fungi. There were also occasional spurts of fire for no reason. Also, it was on the eastern side of this big river, called Jet or something, and there were two armies on opposite ends of the plains. The southern army was the Varden's and Surdans', and the northern one was Gabriel's. I noticed that the good guys' camp was buried behind layers of defenses of some sort, but Gabriel's army was at least three miles across and over twice the side of the rebels.

We dove through the cloud layer, then through the big mobs of vultures and eagles and ravens that had gathered, right at the good guys' camp.

"Epic and dramatic entrance," I muttered to myself. "Happens every time in every cliché story in the world. Ooh, look, the arrows! And I'm talking to myself again." Yeah, I was most likely going mad. I don't think it would've made much of a difference.

The six of us were in Surda. In front of us was a big encampment and a long row of archers stood in front of it with arrows pointed at us. But none of us really cared about that last part, since we all have da Force.

One idiot fired an arrow. All the other idiots followed his example.

I rolled out of the way of the first arrow, and Fritos and Rillon both said "Blah blah blah!" at the same time. The rest of the arrows all stopped in midair for a fraction of a second then dropped to the ground. One arrow, fired after the rest, was caught by Eragon as it flew by him. Show-off.

We landed, and Eragon, Fritos, and Rillon jumped off Saphira.

Some guy hurried over.

"Don't stand there gawking, you buffoons!" he called over his shoulder at the archer sentries. "Get back to your posts!" Then he turned to us. "Sorry, Eragon, sir," he said. "I'm ashamed that you were attacked like that. I'm having those responsible punished."

"Don't," Eragon answered. "Here, give this arrow to Harwin. I believe it's his."

"Oh, err, yes, Argetlam, alright," said the guy, looking confused. He quickly regained his composure, though, took the arrow, handed it to another random person with a few whispered words, then turned back to us. "How did you know we moved to Surda?"

He shrugged. "I have my ways."

"He means we told him," I cut in.

"Who're-" the man began, then saw my wings and Pigeon's, swore loudly, and drew his sword. Fritos stepped in front of him and knocked the sword out of his hand.

The man stared at Fritos, too stunned at seeing an elf to pick up his sword. Eragon quickly said, "Fredric, could you take us to Ajihad?"

"What? Oh, yes, Eragon. Follow me." He stared at Fritos, me, Pigeon, and Rillon suspiciously for another five seconds, then picked up his sword, turned, and led us through the camp. A few random slackers came and watched us. They really should know that it's not polite to stare. Anyways, we stopped at a large red command tent somewhere in the middle of the place. The guy called Fredric pulled back the flap, ushered us in, then ran off to do whatever it was that he was doing. Saphira stuck her head in behind us.

In the tent was a big table. Standing at one end was Ajihad, with some person who looked like his daughter next to him. Arya, Orik, and a purple-eyed kid that looked about two also stood beside the table. There were a bunch of maps and things spread out on the surface.

The adults all looked up, while the kid just looked bored. Ajihad's eyes widened, the woman's jaw dropped open, Orik nearly dropped his axe, and Arya looked stunned. She recovered the moment she saw Fritos. Without a word, she pulled out her sword and charged at him. Then I remembered that since Islanzadi was her mom, then the guy Fritos had killed must be her dad. No wonder she looked so mad.

Fritos seemed to have been expecting her reaction, because he ducked as Arya swung her sword at him. Almost easily, he grabbed her sword arm and twisted. The blade clattered to the ground. Arya tried to twist out of his grip, but to no avail. Sometimes I wonder just how much Creepy enhanced his abilities.

"Blah," said Fritos.

"Blah," Arya snapped.

"Blah," Fritos said.

Arya whispered something, and blobs of light floated out of the ground to form an orb floating in front of her. It looked familiar for some reason. Then she used the sword (which she had just picked up), pricked her finger (with a _sword_?), and dripped a single droplet of blood onto the sphere. The golden light pulsed dark red and the blood almost seemed to be absorbed into it. Arya then put her unwounded hand on the thing and said, "Blah blah Yehutksfbirygfshfb blah." Then she pressed down on the orb, and the light dropped. The earth bubbled around it, somehow, and the ball sank into the ground.

There was a rather tense pause. Only Arya, Fritos, Rillon, and the kid seemed to know what had just happened, so the rest of us were just standing there looking stupid. Eragon and Saphira seemed to have understood some of what they had just said, and Ajihad and Orik both looked like they were trying to remember something important, but failing.

Then Rillon let out a strangled cry, breaking the awkward silence, and said disbelievingly, "Blah."

Arya ignored him, still glaring at Fritos. If looks could kill, he'd have died five minutes ago.

Fritos looked as calm as he always did. Stupid elves. "Blah blah blah."

I'm not sure how that was possible, but Arya's gaze was even more hate-filled than before.

"That was bad, right?" I asked cautiously.

"Yes, Dusk, that was bad," said Fritos, somehow managing to hold Arya's gaze without flinching. "She has just sworn to kill me."

"Well, that _is _bad," I confirmed, as everyone else jumped.

Ajihad managed to call everyone to order with another fist to the table. "Alright, I want to know what this is about," he said commandingly. "Eragon, where are Brom and Murtagh, how did your expedition go, where did you find those two elves, Dusk, and the boy, and how did you know we had come to Surda? Arya, what is your feud with that elf?"

Arya spat at Fritos' feet. "He killed my father." I burst out coughing, and Arya glared at me.

"Is that true?" Ajihad demanded.

"I don't deny it," said Fritos.

The kid gave a chuckle and said in a freaky adult voice that made Eragon and Saphira and Pigeon jump, "And he doesn't regret it either."

Fritos gave the kid a curious look, then agreed, "No, I do not regret my actions. But does this matter now? Is the Empire's army not more important? This can be discussed later, but Galbatorix's soldiers will not wait."

Ajihad looked at him for a few more moments, then turned to Arya. "Arya, do you trust him enough to finish this battle first?"

"He is a wanted criminal in Du Weldenvarden. The queen herself placed a bounty on him."

"Wait," I interrupted. "Do elves even _have _anything to do bounties with? Like, don't you not have currency or something?"

"Are you implying that my race is poor?"

"Well, yeah, that's typically what 'no money' means- I mean, no! Definitely not! You're all rich with, uh, air. And stuff. Keep talking."

She ignored me and kept on talking, thankfully. Do elves just not understand sarcasm or something? "As I was saying, there is a bounty on him."

"So you will not work with him."

"Under any conditions."

"Under any conditions," Ajihad repeated. "Well, elf, I'm sorry about this, but we are going to have to keep you here until after the battle. The elves have helped us immensely in the past, and we have never yet returned that debt. This seems like a good time to do so."

Fritos laughed. I shuffled away a bit. I didn't like it when elves laughed. They look all blank and then they randomly start laughing. It's creepy. "I will leave now, Ajihad. I think I have overstayed my welcome." He gave a mocking bow, nothing like he had done with Creepy, and then vanished.

Ajihad immediately ordered some magicians to see if he was still hiding somewhere in the camp, then told Eragon to say what had happened after he left Farthen Dur.

Eragon talked about how they had been ambushed near Furnost and how Brom and Murtagh had been captured by Durza, how they had spent days crossing the Empire's lands, and the rest I tuned out on because I already knew it all.

Then he finally finished, and Ajihad said, "This is bad news. With Brom and Murtagh captured, Galbatorix must know everything about the Varden now." He looked thoughtful instead of worried.

They kept talking, and since I was bored, I went and started playing with my mind.

* * *

><p><em>Hey, you know there's going to be a big fight, right? Do you mind not bothering me right now? I'm still trying to figure out what I'm going to do. I'm not sure whether I should help fight or not.<em>

Creepy broke through my mental front gates and stopped. _You have been busy._

_Yeah, you could call it that. _I had managed to organize my mind into a sprawling memory city. In front of Creepy were two memories shaped like human soldiers with spears of lame music. I gave them a few orders, and they lowered the spears and stepped back, letting Creepy in without resistance. Each memory was like a person, walking around on the mind streets. The larger, more important memories lived in bigger, fancier mansions, while the smaller memories were divided between normal houses, cardboard and metal homes, and hobos, based on their importance. _So, what do you want now? _ My voice echoed around the whole city. The memory people ignored it and just went about their business.

_Where do you store your magic?_

_Why do you care?_

_There is something you must know._

I sighed. Concentrating, I managed to make myself a little memory body and swirled into existence in front of Creepy. I copied Du Draumr Kopa and made myself look like a floating ball of light. _Making myself look like I do in real life was too hard, so I just got lazy and made this little body, _I explained._ How d'you like the city?_

_It is interesting, _was all she said. I hate it how nobody appreciates all my hard work.

_Right, so, I'll just be watching from the sidelines. See that guy over there, the soldier dude? _It waved its spear of bad fanfiction to get Creepy's attention. _Yeah, just follow it. It'll take you to the core._

I withdrew and let the soldiers handle it. Roran was just giving an inspirational speech to the soldiers. Inspirational, but boring. I slunk away and aimlessly wandered through the camp, listening to Creepy, who had already reached the glass sphere of black magic. It was in the very middle of the city, and the only way to get to it was by reaching the center, going down an elevator to the undermind, and getting past about fifty soldiers. Yeah, I have an awesome mind.

_How many words of magic do you know?_

I peeked at my magic deposit box. _Five._

_You do not need them. You do not need any words at all to use magic. The words focus your energy, but you can do with that your mind as well. For instance, you could make a tree grow into the shape you wanted it to either with just your mind or by singing to it in the old language. However, just a small lapse in concentration, and the tree could become what you might not want it to be, and if you concentrated on something else, then your magic would transfer as well.  
><em>

_Oh, so _now _you tell me._

I focused on burning a conveniently placed wooden post in front of me. The wood caught on fire. And the fire was black. How cliché. Just as I thought that, a nearby tent caught on creepy black fire. Curses and screams came out of it.

"Oops." I put out the fire.

_You need practice. _Creepy dumped a few memories onto the ground before leaving. The memory soldiers closed and barred the mental front gates when she was out.

I looked through the memories. They basically showed me how to concentrate and not let my mind wander while I was doing magic. Useful things. I made them into little memory people and built a few mansions for them, then left them to their stuff.

Bored, I continued randomly strolling around the camp and getting on people's nerves. I nearly ran into Arya, but quickly dodged out of the way. She was still fuming about Fritos, and the last thing I wanted was to bump into her when she was in a bad mood.

A few minutes later, I saw the creepy kid with purple eyes. She was sneaking around for some reason or other, but looked up when I went near.

"Hi," I said. "Your eyes are purple. Are you sure you don't have some sort of eye disease?"

She glared at me and said in her adult voice, "And your eyes are brown. Are you sure you don't have some sort of eye disease?"

"Brown's a normal color. Lots of people have brown eyes. I think only some albinos have purple eyes. Or they might be red. I'm not sure."

"What's an albino?"

"You're not one. And I'm bored again."

"You're bored? There's about to be a big battle, and you're bored?"

"Yeah. I already know nothing bad'll happen to me. I'm a main character and a Mary Sue. Nothing bad can ever happen to me."

"Huh?"

"Nothing bad'll happen to Pigeon either. Or Eragon. Or Saphira. Or Arya. I'm not so sure about Ajihad or his daughter or anybody else though."

The kid held up a hand, then, a few seconds later, she said, "You're right. Nothing bad is going to happen to any of you, except Eragon. Eragon is going to be emotionally scarred. Oh, and the boy with the red wings. He's going to suffer from... love. Most of this army is going to be suffering from love after the battle. I don't know how that is going to happen. Ajihad will die, but he is going to die next Tuesday evening from disease." She said the part about Eragon way too cheerfully.

"Oh... Hey, wait, how do you know all that?"

"Ask Eragon."

"On second thought, I don't think I care any more. You know, kid, I like you. You're about the only person here I can have an intelligent conversation with."

"Being around you isn't bad either. You never seem to get hurt, and you don't suffer from anything. Except your leg is injured. You limp."

"Wait, I limp? I do?" I took a few steps. It was barely noticeable, but now that the kid mentioned it, I guess I _did _limp slightly. Or maybe I only pretended to notice it because she had pointed out. Probably the second one. "Oh, I guess I do limp, kinda. Not really. Hey, what's you name? I'm Dusk."

"Elva."

"Well, that's cliché, but I guess I'll just accept that, since everything around here is cliché. Your name isn't that bad when I compare it to Eragon, at least.

"Hey, by the way, don't you think we should tell Ajihad that he'll die next Tuesday?"

"He'll still die. What's the point?"

"What are you going to be doing during the battle?"

Elva shrugged.

"That's fun. I was thinking of screwing with Galby's soldiers' minds, since a dagger won't do anything in a war unless I was a dwarf, and I can't handle armor. I don't know how to move in it. Too heavy and clumsy."

"How are you going to mess up their minds? There are magicians shielding them."

"Easy. I get past the magician and make the soldiers think they're in hell. Or a flower garden. Or maybe drowning. Or I can just constantly send them the sound of chalk scraping against a chalkboard. It's really not that hard. Or I could just kill them."

"For a hundred thousand soldiers?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, not a hundred thousand! I can deal with maybe about twenty or thirty at a time."

"That is still a lot."

"Mm hmm, yeah it is. By the way, I think I'm bored again."

"We've already established that. But you can go that way if you want." She pointed. "It might stop you from being bored."

"It will? Oh, sweet, thanks. Bye! Nice meeting you."

I wandered off in the direction Elva had suggested. Pretty soon, I smelled something that reminded me of spoiled fish. Then there was a very loud noise. I hurried over, and I was definitely not bored when I saw what had just happened. Angela and Eragon were just standing there, Eragon looked confuzzled and Angela looking pretty mad.

The side of Eragon's face had a bright red hand mark on it, which explained the loud noise.

Angela started yelling at him. "You blockhead! Did you see what you did to that girl?"

"What did I do to who?" he demanded angrily.

"You moron!" Angela screeched. "You don't know what you did to that girl, that girl you 'blessed' in Farthen Dur? She suffers every moment of every day, because of _you! _You and your so-called blessing! She suffers the pain of every person around her, and she can predict when someone is going to be hurt, and she is compelled to stop it and help the other person! I've watched over her all this time, and I've seen what happens to her if she doesn't try to help someone! And this is in the middle of a war zone, you sorry excuse for a Dragon Rider! A war! There are all of those ill people she has to deal with, and the wounded, and she probably had to feel what I just did to you as well! So don't you get angry with me, boy! You deserved it."

"I blessed her! How is that a bad thing?"

"Blessed? _Blessed?_ If that was a blessing, then toads aren't frogs! And I've already proven that they are! No, you blockhead, that was a curse, and a horrible one at that! You condemned an innocent girl to a horrible fate! And-"

She shouted at him for a bit more, something about Urgals and idiocy running in the family and some more stuff about blockheads. She was better at insulting people than I had thought.

"Still bored?" Elva said from behind me.

"Not really. You know, this is actually pretty fun. I don't think Eragon even knows what's going on."

"He doesn't," the kid confirmed. She grinned evilly. "Not yet. But he's going to." She walked casually out and headed over to Angela's tent.

Elva's voice doesn't carry very well, so I just walked off since I couldn't hear what was going on. I was slightly less bored. Slightly. Not a lot.

Randomly, I wandered over to the training square place thing. It was a big clearing with no tents, a few straw dummies, some archery targets, and there was an extremely large pile of weapons behind about ten people who were passing them out and there was another pile of training weapons next to the dummies.

Most people had on chainmail or leather with a spear and large shield, but there was the occasional person with a bow and a quiver of arrows. A few people were training on the field. Pigeon was one, and he was only wearing leather armor. A bow and a quiver of arrows were on his back, and in his hand was one of the wooden training swords. He was fighting some guy using a spear and one of the big shields, and he was losing pretty badly. Still, it was a pretty unfair fight for him.

Then some guy came over, looking embarrassed, and said, "They want you at the command tent."

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, in some conveniently large cave in the middle of an unspecified location, Grimrr Halfpaw, bleeding from numerous injuries, tore off half the werecat queen's ear as the werecats around him watched silently.<p>

Vronle Halfear screeched in pain, and King Halfpaw stepped away from her and walked out of the cave without a backwards glance. When he returned the next day, the werecats would be doing the same things they always did as if nothing had changed, and Vronle would be wandering the country, covered in blood and half-dead from exhaustion.

And when she finally collapsed, she would regain consciousness fully healed except for the missing part of her ear, and the Lady would have another werecat in her service.


	32. Miss Purple

I went into the big red unguarded command tent to see Ajihad and his daughter and Eragon and Arya and some guy huddled around the middle table. Saphira's head poked through a flap in the back.

I tried my best at being courteous and said, "Hi. Watcha doin'?"

They all looked up. "Took you a while," Eragon muttered. His face was still a bit red.

"Yeah. That was because I was too busy watching Angela be angry at you. That was interesting. Say, your cheek is still red. Does it still hurt?"

He jumped. "You- you saw that?" he asked nervously. Darn it, I should've taped him getting slapped and put it on Youtube. Where were all the video cameras when I needed them? Oh well, too late.

"Yeah. But seriously, get on with it."

Ajihad interrupted us. "We need you to kill someone." He sounded extremely tired for some reason, which was probably why he was being so blunt all of a sudden.

"Don't you have any trained assassins anywhere?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Assassination is a dirty tactic; we never thought we would use it," the random guy explained. "It was Pigeon who suggested it."

"So, let me get this straight: you want an untrained talkative fifteen-year old girl to infiltrate a camp of around a hundred thousand trained soldiers and kill someone who I'm guessing is extremely important? And you want that untrained talkative fifteen-year old girl to get past all of the soldiers and all of the magicians? Oh, and you're doing this on the recommendation of another fifteen-year old who also just got here?"

Ajihad shifted uncomfortably. "Yes."

"Fabulous!" I said. "Who do you want me to kill? The boss? Galby? Shruikan? The whole army?"

"The general," Arya said quietly.

"Ah, fudge. Isn't he the guy at the very top?"

"Yes," Eragon muttered.

"Great. You suck, you know that? Do you know how bad that camp is gonna smell? Seriously, this place smells bad enough, and that camp has about three times as many people as this one! Geez, if somebody doesn't kill me, the smell will." In truth, I actually _was _a bit scared (miracle!), but it probably wouldn't be too bad.

"Do you need anything for the... job?" asked Ajihad, still sounding and looking about as tired as anyone could. He looked like a dead panda.

I considered it for a moment, then said, "You got any frying pans?"

They all stared. _What do you want a _frying pan _for? _Saphira asked in disbelief.

"Eh, no reason really. I just need it for something I don't have planned."

I sensed regret coming off the minds of all five of them. Ha, they probably wished they had picked someone else. Idiots. They should know the consequences of picking me to do anything.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" the random guy asked worriedly.

"Nope," I said cheerfully, grinning. "Not a clue."

I don't blame them for being worried.

* * *

><p>Pigeon, bruised and sore, had just left the training square, his bow and quiver slung over his back and his spear in his hand. He somehow managed to knock on the command tent's flap and somebody inside said, "Come in." He pulled back the flap and went in.<p>

The people inside looked worried, even Saphira. Pigeon took a wild guess and asked, "Dusk?"

Ajihad sighed. "Yes." He seemed to be a lot more tired usual. He gestured at the man, the elf, and the woman. "Jormundur, this is Pigeon. Pigeon, this is Jormundur, and this is Nasuada. I do not think you have been introduced yet. The elf is Arya."

"Err, hi," said Pigeon uncertainly. "How was it with Dusk?"

"She took a frying pan and that dagger of hers. Nothing else." Eragon glared at the walls of the tent, fingering the hilt of his sword.

"She'll manage," Pigeon answered, although he was a bit worried inside. He tried to push the feeling away unsuccessfully. Then he got distracted and looked at Eragon, then down at the Rider's red lightsaber. Oh, no wait, that's Star Wars, my bad.

Eragon glanced over at Pigeon. "What is it?"

"You're going to be riding Saphira, right?"

"Yes, why?"

"Then why are you going to use a sword?"

"What's wrong with a sword?"

Pigeon sighed, then turned to Saphira. "Do you mind if we try an experiment?"

Saphira looked at him for a moment, then asked, _What do you have in mind?_

"Can Eragon sit on your back and try something? Just for a moment, you won't even need the saddle."

_Yes._

They all walked outside and Eragon climbed onto Saphira, who hadn't even bothered to stand up. "What now?" the Rider asked once he was seated.

"See if you can hit me from up there with your sword," said Pigeon, standing next to Saphira and looking up, his arms crossed.

Eragon tried. He swung his sword at Pigeon and missed by about half a mile.

"See?" Pigeon said. "A sword is too short. What you need is a long spear, or you could throw magic or shoot arrows, although to use a long spear from Saphira's back while she's in the air will force you to learn a completely new fighting style with a weapon that's worlds apart from your sword in a few days at most, which isn't possible. Even if you did learn, you would need to be able to attack someone but not pierce one of Saphira's wings by accident." Pidgeon paused for moment, thinking. "Never mind," he said finally. "You'll be fine." He then turned back to the others as Eragon slid off Saphira. "Do you have any really long spears?"

Jormundur looked skeptical, but said, "We might. I think we do, in fact. Yes, we do have one."  
><em><br>Oh, well, that's convenient, _thought Pigeon. _I guess we'll be all right after all.  
><em>  
>"What if someone cuts the spear in half?" Eragon asked.<p>

"Most, if not all, of the enemies will have spears, and spears aren't designed for cutting through wood," Pigeon answered. "If somebody has a sword and they cut the pointy metal part off, you can still hit people with the pole. I think the monks from some country or other did perfectly fine with wooden sticks."

"What happens if my opponent kills me while I'm trying to figure out how to use a pole?"

"They won't even be able to reach you. It's Saphira you should be worried about, actually. If the enemy is smart, they'll go for her instead of you. You'll have to watch your wings and eyes," he added to Saphira. "And you can't be flying, either, since you don't have any ranged attacks, so you'll have to have a guard watching your back and sides."

"I can arrange that," said Nasuada.

"No, Nasuada, stay here. Jormundur, you can gather the guard."

"Yes, Ajihad," he said, and strode off.

"We will go over the plan again," said Ajihad, and the rest of them followed him back into the command tent, except for Saphira, who stuck her head in again.

* * *

><p>I already knew that sneaking into such a big camp with nobody noticing was impossible, so I wasn't going to sneak into such a big camp with nobody noticing. Oh, people were going to notice alright, definitely.<p>

"Shoo, birds, go away. What're you doing here anyways? There's no food," I said to a vulture that was circling me. The vulture seemed to realize this as well and flew away. The other birds also suddenly realized that they were flying above the smoky, hazy, poisonous field for absolutely no reason other than because black birds and birds of prey often circle soon-to-be battlefields in cliché places despite there being no food anywhere near. They flew off too. The sky cleared amazingly quickly, except a few birds-of-prey stopped to eat some of the slower birds first before leaving.

I looked down at Galby's camp. They looked like black dots from where I was. Hopefully, they could see me. I dived. I really had no idea what I was going to do. Still, if all else failed, I could just run and stay in the background until one side won. After all, I had never sworn loyalty to the stupid Varden; I could do whatever I wanted. Except for Creepy. Damn Creepy.

I dived. And I dived some more. And some more. And then I was right above the camp, and all of the archers seemed to have attended the Imperial Stormtrooper Marksmanship Academy, because they all missed. It was kinda pathetic. It was also how I could tell which of the archers were cannon fodder; the ones that shot arrows I actually had to dodge were the real people.

"Huh. What was I going to do with a frying pan again? Oh, that's right. It was to annoy Eragon."

I landed practically in the dead center of the enemy camp. Almost immediately, I was surrounded by a quite a bunch of soldiers, all of them with spears or arrows aimed at me. It almost looked like the whole army had their weapons pointed at me.

"Hi," I said way too cheerfully, "how're you doing? Really, I should be saying something along the lines of 'Take me to your leader' right now, but that's the most cliche'd thing ever, and this place is bad enough without me adding even more Sueism and clicheness to it. So instead of saying 'Take me to your leader', I think I'll just say 'Where's your boss?'"

The soldiers who had heard me stared. The ones who could see the frying pan also stared. It was rather creepy, really, with about three hundred people staring at me.

Three people pushed through the crowd to the front. One guy was obviously the big boss, the other was Murtagh, and the last one was some chick who looked like she was even more of a Mary Sue than I was, but who probably wasn't. Tagging along behind them was a red dragon, who was about as tall as a person.

_I'm Talos_, the dragon announced loudly. A few soldiers covered their ears instead of blocking their minds like they were supposed to. The others stopped staring at me and glared at Talos instead.

Murtagh winced. "Alright, we get it, you're Talos, you can stop reminding us."

_I was talking to that_, Talos said, nodding towards me.

"That has a name, you know," I commented, "and a gender too."

"Oh, yes, General, Nuanen, that's Dusk. I think she works for the Varden," said Murtagh.

"That's debatable, actually," I said. "Let me ask my boss something first, 'kay? Yeah, thanks." I found Creepy somewhere around the ruins on Bone Guard and said, _Hi. It's me._

_Go on_, she said.

_Huh?_

_You want to join Galbatorix, am I correct?_

_How'd you know?_

_I give you permission._

_Oh. Okay. Thanks._

There was a pause, then Creepy said, _Galbatorix has agreed._ _He says that as long as you do not cause trouble, he will accept you._

_Wow, you talked to him? Eh, thanks, I guess._ "Hi, yeah, I don't work for the Varden, actually."

"Weren't you with Eragon, though?" asked Murtagh.

"No, actually. Eragon's a moron. By the way, you guys want this random frying pan? No? Whatever. Here, catch." I threw it over my shoulder. Some guy evidently didn't manage to catch it, because there was a loud _bonk_, as well as a "Hey!"

The general guy really didn't seem to care, because he just said, "You're betraying the terrorists?"

I shrugged. "Pretty much. Oh, and Galby- Gabriel- Gandrayda- Mr. G's already agreed."

"Do you mean His Majesty the King Galbatorix?" the Mary Sue asked. For tradition's sake, I'll describe her voice in excruciating detail. It was like a nightingale, except it wasn't, and it was like a harp, except it had less of that pizzicato sound, and it was like a river of molten pink chocolate, despite the fact that that would probably look pretty disgusting and it doesn't exist and you can't really see or smell a voice anyways, and it was like a summer breeze, except without the wooshing noise, and it was like a forest stream, except without the gurgling and bubbling and crayfish and fish pee, and- alright, I'll stop. The purple's getting to me anyway.

"Yeah, him. You can ask him if you want."

_I'm Talos_, the dragon declared. Again. The entire army jumped. It looked like they were doing the wave.

"Yes, we _get it_," Murtagh said exasperatedly. "Now shut up."

Murtagh was on his back immediately with Talos sitting on top of him . The general guy looked like he was pretending not to see what was happening, and Mary Sue took a step towards them, thought better of it, and turned away. I just watched. It was kind of cool to see a Rider get attacked by his dragon. I wish I could've seen Saphira do that to Eragon. It would've been hilarious.

I wasn't too sure why the dragon was broadcasting to everyone, but he was, so I didn't have to butt in on their conversation to know what they were saying.

_Did you just tell me what to do?_ Talos snarled.

"No, I was merely suggesting that-"

What_, exactly? Were you suggesting that I_ be quiet_? That I _shut up_?_

"No," Murtagh squeaked.

_Don't lie to me. That is exactly what you meant. You don't tell me what to do, Murtagh. You _never _tell me what to do. _I_ decide what I do, not a human. A _human _will not tell a dragon what to do. I will obey myself and King Shruikan only. Do you understand?_

"Yes."

Talos puffed a bunch of smoke into Murtagh's face. _Then apologize._

"I- I'm sorry, Talos," he said, sounding like he'd rather be anywhere but there. Quite a bunch of random soldiers coughed simultaneously. It sounded suspiciously like they were laughing.

_I accept your apology._ Talos stepped off of Murtagh and started licking his foot, picking out the dirt between the claws and scales.

Murtagh didn't get up, and the general started talking as if nothing had just happened. "I have contacted His Majesty, and he has confirmed what... Dusk said. You are dismissed, all of you."

The soldiers all wandered off, talking. I caught the phrases "Wish I could stand up to my wife like that" and "Talos is my new idol" and "Tell that to my grandchildren if I survive".

Mr. General grabbed my shoulder and pushed me over to a conveniently located empty tent. "I'm keeping an eye on you," he said. "If you could turn traitor to the terrorists so easily, then I wouldn't put it past you to turn against us as well. Which is why I'm putting you under Talos' supervision. If you try anything, Talos will kill you."

"I thought Talos said he wouldn't listen to a human?"

"He wouldn't normally, but Shruikan ordered him to listen to me. He doesn't trust you any more than I do."

"Huh. I guess I shouldn't have expected him to like me after I got away from him out of pure luck."

"That might be part of it," Mr. General agreed. "But the point is, I don't trust you not to turn on us. Do not try anything, and you'll be fine."

"Thanks for the warning, Mr. Person Who I Don't Know the Name Of. Yeah. So, what do I do now?"

"Make sure Talos knows where you are and what you are doing at all times."

"Really? That's easy."

"Don't get on anyone's nerves either," he said. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "That includes mine."

"Dangit."

* * *

><p>Nuanen didn't like this new Sue at all. Two Sues couldn't be together without the spotlight always being on one, and when Nuanen and Dusk were together, whoever was in charge of the point of view took all of the attention. Dusk had gotten it last time, but this time, it was her turn.<p>

Nuanen had chosen her name herself. It meant "beautiful" in the language of the elves, and it suited her, for she _was_ beautiful, more so than that idiotic Dusk. With every step Dusk took, it became even more obvious that she was an ugly witch in disguise. Nuanen, however, could never be compared to those warty green witches, for it would be blasphemy to even think of doing so.

Once everyone dispersed, Nuanen didn't head back to her own tent, which was a beautiful soft lilac color that went with her gorgeous wings. Instead, she tried to cast her mind out, but failed. Controlling her mind was the one thing she was only mediocre at. She excelled at flying, magic, learning languages, math, playing instruments, swordplay, singing, dressing up, charming people, writing, military strategy, and pretty much everything except sending out her mind. She wasn't very good at physical combat, either, which she found odd. It was rather annoying, really. Why couldn't she be good at everything?

Deciding that Talos wouldn't be so hard to find anyways, she looked about her and saw a scaly red tail poking out from behind a nearby tent. She walked over to find Talos curled up on the ground, with one eye open and watching Dusk and with the other closed. Dusk was watching people beating each other up on the sparring field, her eyes half closed.

Talos looked up when Nuanen approached, and he gave a little purr that didn't really sound like a cat. Nuanen smiled back.

"Can we talk for a moment?" Nuanen asked, pretending to watch Talos but in reality looking at Dusk. One aspect of Sue magic was that people couldn't overhear her conversations unless it was convenient for her for them to do so. She hoped that it worked on other Sues as well.

Dusk glanced over at Nuanen, shrugged, and turned back to the field. _It doesn't work on me, you know,_ she said, and even in their minds, she sounded ugly, like that evil person in Snow White. _But I'll go somewhere else if you want._

_Please do_, said Nuanen in a voice that was much more beautiful than any nightingale could ever hope to be.

As Dusk strolled off, Talos made to go after her, but Nuanen said, in a beautifully delicate and yet strong voice, "Wait!"

Talos turned. _King Shruikan ordered me to watch her_, he said, seemingly torn between running after Dusk and staying with Nuanen.

Nuanen gave him a charming smile. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind you taking your eyes off of her for just a moment."

_Alright_, said Talos. Two soldiers on their way to the training field glanced over at the two of them, but said nothing. That was one thing that was strange about Talos: whenever he spoke, his voice would carry the exact same distance as if he had been speaking aloud. Talos had said it was on purpose, that if he didn't act like an intelligent being, then he wouldn't be treated like one. Nuanen had to admit, it did make some sense.

"Talos, you will be watching Dusk during the battle, am I correct?" Nuanen questioned, her voice conjuring up images of the dew that adorned the leaves and grasses on a cool spring morning. She knew she was correct already, but it sounded politer to ask.

_Yes, of course, _Talos said. _Galbatorix, the king, Marc, and Dolk all don't trust her not to turn on us._

"The commander is on the other side of the camp," Nuanen said, gazing at him curiously. Her eyes were now an absolutely beautiful purple that went perfectly with her wings. They—her eyes, that was—would change colors occasionally, although nobody except her knew why.

Talos shrugged. Nuanen thought she caught a flash of bright orange at the back of his throat when he yawned, but decided that it was probably just a trick of the light.

"What I wanted to ask you is, what will Murtagh do without you there to help him?" She sounded as beautiful as she looked.

_He will manage_, said Talos.

She sounded like the sweet chiming of bells as she said, "Yes, of course, but I was wondering, what _if_ something happened to him?"

_I have known him and you for less than a week. If he dies, then so be it. He and I are friends, nothing more._

"I always did think that the Rider-dragon relationship would be slightly more...potent, and that the two of you would care for each other more," Nuanen said, the slight bit of confusion in her voice only adding to her beauty.

_So does everyone. We dragons have ancestral memories, Nuanen, and I had known before that the two-leggeds think of our noble race as a dumb beast of burden. We are on the same level as oxes to them. It was why I decided to speak as I do now, to let your race know that I am not simply a horse to be ridden. However, sometimes I look back on the memories passed down to me from the time of the Riders. It is sickening._

_We are powerful creatures, and I have discovered that the pact formed by the elves and dragons is not simply slanted in the elves' favor, but nowhere does it benefit dragons at all. We can fly, we possess magic, we can breathe fire, and we would not have needed your language had we not bonded with the elves and humans. A lone dragon is stronger than a lone elf, and even more so when it comes to humans. Why, then, did we agree to this? I have come to the conclusion that the dragons in that time were tricked, possibly by magical means, to contribute their power to that spell._

Nuanen smiled and nodded politely. She didn't really care. She just wanted Talos to hurry up and answer the question already.

_After some experimentation, I've also discovered that the bond between dragon and Rider is only slightly different than a link between the dragon or maybe a fly, or the dragon and a cat. It does not stretch over long distances, and either of us can cut ourselves off from the other temporarily. The only differences are the gedwey ignasia, the fact that Murtagh is now immortal and proficient at magic (both of which are because of me), and the link is permanent. I have nothing to thank him for, besides allowing me to escape from my egg, something which would have happened naturally had my father not given my egg up to the Riders of old._

_Murtagh is a normal friend, and nothing more. The bond between dragon and Rider does not automatically mean that I love him. He must prove himself to me if he wants to be a dragon's close friend._

"Oh..." said Nuanen beautifully. "Then you will not be helping Murtagh?"

_No. I said that he will manage without me. If he cannot, then he does not deserve a dragon. I refuse to be bonded to someone who cannot care for himself, even in the midst of battle. If he dies, then it proves that he was nothing better than a common soldier. If he survives, then he will have proven himself worthy of me._

"You... have really high standards, don't you?" She didn't mean it as a compliment, but she said it so tactfully that Talos didn't even notice it.

_I am a dragon. Do you expect me to have low standards?_

"No," Nuanen said wonderfully, "of course not."

Talos glanced over to make sure that Dusk hadn't run off, then returned his attention back to Nuanen. _Why did you ask whether I would help Murtagh in the battle?_

Nuanen, though slightly surprised by this question, concealed it perfectly and answered, "No reason, really." She didn't say the _real_ reason, but Talos seemed satisfied with her answer anyway and turned back to Dusk.

Nuanen, with that done, retreated to her tent and began to brush her long, luxurious, raven black hair and to tie it into a neat braid. She didn't like braids very much at all, but, Sue or not, floor-length hair in a fight was quite annoying, unless you were spinning around in a circle very very quickly so as to slap people with your hair, and that wasn't attractive (or effective) in the least. After finishing with her hair, she proceeded to find a quiet, clean little pool just outside the camp and in the surrounding forest, even though that same forest hadn't been there even an hour ago. She took a bath, the pretty little birds chirping and flying around her and the cute little squirrels scampering all about her as she did so. Afterward, she went back to her tent, redid her makeup, dabbed on a bit of nail polish, and got out her armor (noticing but not caring that the moment she had left the forest, the entire place had conveniently vanished).

The armor, despite being being made completely of solid steel plates, was as light as a feather, and it was tinted a light amethyst purple that went perfectly with her eyes and wings and clothes. (Nuanen did like purple, she really did, and it was quite obvious when one looked at her, and at her narration.) The armor also happened to accentuate her body, somehow making her even more beautiful, which everyone knew wasn't possible. It even had chain-mail that protected her beautiful membranous wings, the latter of which cast a purple glow on the ground when the sun shone through them. The chain-mail did nothing to impede her superb flying abilities, due to her having enchanted it herself to make it suitable for flight, and her magical abilities were renowned in Uru'baen, being second only to King Galbatorix himself, but only when he didn't have Shruikan or the Eldunari backing him. Intricate swirls and patterns decorated the armor. It didn't have the curling red flame that marked soldiers of the Empire, but everyone in the army knew who she was, and therefore she didn't even need the bright red that would contrast horribly with her purple. Instead, emblazoned on the chest plate was a cute cartoon wing that was outlined in dark violet. Her helmet revealed only her eyes (it looked better that way), while her mouth and nose were covered with a piece of chain-mail that had been enchanted to as to allow her to speak through it without having her voice muffled and to let her breathe, and the rest of her head was covered in plate. All in all, her armor was the most beautiful suit of armor in Alagaesia, and no-one could say differently, for it wasn't an opinion.

She put it all on by herself, easing her wings through the slits in the back and using magic to help herself put on the chain-mail, seeing as she couldn't reach. She should think about getting herself a pet later, to help her with these things. She would prefer a magical creature. Maybe the green egg would hatch for her? No, that was a silly idea. Green didn't go well with purple, everyone knew that. Beside, dragons were horribly arrogant and demanding, as far as she could tell with Talos. She couldn't have a pet that wouldn't obey her unquestioningly.

Oh well, she could think about getting a pet for herself later. A horse, possibly, or a purple bird, if she could find one. She knew she could if she actually wanted one badly enough. She would think about it.

For now, however, she had other things to do. Specifically, looking for Murtagh.


	33. And We All Fall Down

**Warning: Major (and completely random) character death.**

* * *

><p>Ajihad was sick. They had just gone back into the pavilion when he suddenly dropped to the ground. Angela and a few other healers were looking at him inside, and had kicked out everyone else out.<p>

Pigeon was stalking back and forth in front of the tent, waiting, just like all the other people who had been kicked out were doing. It wasn't like he really had anything else to do. He could always go to the training grounds to get beaten up again, but that really wasn't a very favorable idea.

A few minutes later, one of the healers came out of the tent and said to them, "Ajihad has greenthroat."

"He's got what?" asked Pigeon, as the others let out gasps of horror.

"You don't know what greenthroat is?" asked the healer disbelievingly.

"No."

"It's a disease that makes the victim's throat get clogged up in green mucus, stopping them from eating or drinking or breathing. There is no cure, and... and it's contagious. By air."

The horror of the situation dawned on Pigeon. "Oh God," he whispered. If it was contagious, and by air, no less, then it wouldn't be very long until half the army got it. Starting with the people who had been near him in the last few hours, including Pigeon. And Dusk, still in the enemy's camp. "Does it kill everyone who gets it?"

"Can we cure it by magic?" asked Eragon.

"No-one's survived it yet, and you can't just go around curing everything with magic," the healer snapped.

"May I check?" asked Arya.

The healer glared at her. "Fine, but I told you, magic can't cure this. It's been tried before."

"By human magicians, maybe," said Arya, walking inside. The healer muttered something nasty about elves and followed her in.

Arya came back out soon enough, shaking her head. Pigeon looked back at the other elf. Rillon actually looked a bit... _scared_. Pigeon gulped.

A different healer ushered them all into the tent, which some of the people seemed pretty reluctant to do. "Relax," the healer said. "We've probably all got it now anyways."

That wasn't a very reassuring thought.

"Here's the plan," said Angela, standing up. Ajihad was still unconscious on the ground, and he looked deathly pale. Actually, Pigeon wasn't sure whether he was just unconscious or actually... he shuddered, not wanting to think about it. "Ajihad isn't dead yet, but he will be soon."

"Why aren't you doing anything to help him then?" Nasuada demanded.

"Because there _is_ nothing we can do," said Angela. "But like I said, here's the plan: Everyone we find with greenthroat will be transported back here, and the area around this pavilion must be cleared completely. All of us are going to stay here, since we've all got a chance of carrying the disease. Except Saphira," she said, and the dragon nodded. Only her head and neck were in the tent. "So Saphira, you're in charge of bringing anyone with greenthroat here, as well as clearing the area."

_Yes_, said Saphira, and she retreated out of the tent.

"Are you sure that she can't catch it?" asked Jormundur.

"If she can, then we're all dead," said Angela, shrugging. "Let's just hope she can't."

At that moment, Ajihad began coughing. Globs of green mucus and blood flew out of his mouth as he spasmed on the ground.

"Father!" Nasuada cried, running over to Ajihad. "Father, please. Don't-"

Ajihad's face was already turning purple. After one last cough, he fell silent.

"-die," Nasuada finished. She stared at Ajihad's body in shock, and then she cried.

"That's the first victim then," said Angela, ignoring Nasuada's sobbing. She took a deep breath. "The rest of you should be reacting to it soon enough. First you'll feel tired and weak, and then you'll collapse, and then that." She gestured at Ajihad's body. "And after you, comes us." She was talking about the healers.

Just then, there was a commotion at the entrance of the tent. Two soldiers were flung in.

"Hey! You stupid lizard, what're you doing!" one of them shouted at Saphira.

"Stay," Jormundur snapped, when he made a move to rush out of the tent. The soldiers looked back and noticed Jormundur for the first time.

"Sorry sir, didn't notice you," one of them said quickly. Then his gaze drifted over to where Nasuada was crying over Ajihad's body, and his face paled. "Is Ajihad _dead_?"

"What? _Ajihad_?" asked his companion. "Is that _greenthroat_?"

"You can tell?" asked one of the healers.

"Wiped out my whole family 'cept fer me, 'course I can tell," the taller soldier said. "So why are we here?"

"Because you've caught it. Greenthroat, that is."

Both soldiers stared at Angela in horror. "You joking?"

"Not in the least. Everyone with the sickness is being brought here. Wait, how can Saphira tell if they have it or not?"

"She says they smell off," said Eragon.

"It's probably just because we had a drink last night," said the shorter soldier hurriedly, backing away.

"_Stay_," Jormundur snapped. And then he suddenly paled and dropped to the ground.

"Shoot," said Pigeon, as one of the soldiers followed Jormundur's example. It was spreading already.

Saphira came back and threw another person in, this time a cook, judging by his uniform.

"What's going on!" the cook shouted. "Damn liz- Oh sorry, Argetlam sir, didn't see you there. And holy cow, what the hell happened here?"

"Greenthroat," said the remaining soldier, by way of an explanation. He was staring in horror at his friend.

"I have _greenthroat_?" asked the cook. "What's greenthroat?"

"It kills you," said the soldier shortly.

"Oh," said the cook. "Sucks." He was taking it surprisingly well.

And then it suddenly struck Pigeon: this was a _cook_. He had access to the Varden's food supply. He cooked food for the entire army. "Eragon, tell Saphira that she needs to get everyone out of the mess hall right now, and make sure none of them take any food with them."

"Why- Never mind, I'm telling her now," said Eragon. Nasuada suddenly slumped over her father's body. Pigeon's heart was racing. He would be next, he just knew it.

_You will not die today, _said a voice in his head. He jumped, looked around, and then concentrated on the tent walls.

The voice went on just as if he hadn't done anything. _Listen closely, Pigeon: I can cure this army of the virus._

"Really?" asked Pigeon, and then realized he had said it aloud. _Really?_

_Yes._

_Who're you?_

_That does not matter, _said the voice. _I can and will save the Varden on one condition._

_What is it?_

_You must become the new leader of the Varden._

"I- What?" _But I'm just a kid!_

The voice ignored him and said, _I can help you with this, if you agree. If not, then the Varden perishes, and you will forever live with the knowledge that you could have stopped the death of thousands._

_You're not giving me much of a choice._

_No, _the voice said. _So is it agreed. _It wasn't said as a question.

Jormundur began to cough. The others looked on helplessly as he died. Well, the ones who looked on at all looked on helplessly. Some people just stood there and didn't look scared or bothered at all by the impending doom. Pigeon felt a sudden surge of intense dislike for elves in general and for Arya in particular.

_Yes! _Pigeon cried. _Hurry up!_

There was something extremely smug about the way it said, _Very well. _Pigeon harbored the thought, for only a second, that maybe the voice had been the one to plant the disease in the first place. However, his suspicions were subsequently blown out of his mind, and he completely forgot about them.

There was a flash of light. Colored wind that wasn't really colored or even visible swirled around him. He blinked, and the world changed.


	34. A Plant That Makes Things Explode

The Forsworn were generally assumed to be all dead. That was about as far from the truth as anyone could ever get.

There had been twenty-six in the original alliance. There were thirteen still left, four pairs, four dragons, and one former dragon rider. The rest had all been killed by a combination of Brom, the Varden, and the elves. Oh, and suicide by some of the dragons when their Riders died and vice versa. The only problem was that the remaining dragons were _all _male, which was obviously not a good thing, but that was a problem they could worry about later.

There had also been the Banishing of the Names, of course, and it should rightfully have driven all of the Forsworn mad, but the dragon Akai had remained unaffected in his speech. After a bit of investigation, the others figured out that it was because Akai didn't use proper language to communicate and, when his thoughts _were_ translated into language, they were complete gibberish and made no sense. The other dragons and riders had had to muck their way through all that nonsense, and had, after months of effort, worked out that it simply_ could not_ be translated into _any _language. So the others dragons ditched that idea and one of them worked out that speaking in third person somehow also managed to shake off the effects of the spell, and the rest of the dragons followed suit. To talk about each other, they tricked their own minds into describing, instead of the actual dragon, and identical one except one that _wasn't _affected by the spell. They didn't really care why or how it did that; it worked, and that was that. No-one knew why the wild dragons had performed the act in the first place either, and there were hundreds of crazy theories that floated around the place, probably none of which were true.

Anyways, Hanso and Dorolea were one of the four pairs, and Shruikan and Galbatorix typically left them in charge of the Empire when they were gone. The Forsworn were scattered all over the place and neither Shruikan nor Galbatorix cared very much what they did as long it was fair and not illegal, but they had better come when they were called, on pain of getting shouted at if they got there a few days (or months, as the case might be) late. Galbatorix wasn't very creative or brutal with his punishments, and Shruikan thought it was so funny that he just let his rider keep doing that.

Luckily, Hanso and Dorolea were plenty more responsible than some of the others, and they turned up on the night they were called, leaving Shruikan and Galbatorix free to leave for the Burning Plains right away. Before leaving, Shruikan entrusted Dorolea with the wild dragon egg that Jill and Akai had somehow found in Du Weldenvarden, and Shruikan had told the blue dragon in confidence that if anything, and he meant _anything_, happened to that egg, there was going to be hell to pay when they got back. Shruikan's punishments were actually terrifying. Even Akai didn't dare get on the black dragon's bad side, and Akai was _Akai_.

It took Shruikan and Galbatorix maybe a few hours to get to the Burning Plains. Shruikan was a very old dragon, and very large as well; it didn't take him very long to get anywhere, especially not with Galbatorix giving him a magical speed boost.

There were a lot of shouts from below, and Shruikan hovered in the air above the camp for a few minutes to give everyone time to clear out of the way. He landed heavily, sending a few tents flying with the force from his wings, and Galbatorix got off.

Marc was at their sides almost immediately. He said, "Your Majesty! I wasn't expecting you to come here."

"We know," said Galbatorix. "Shruikan wanted to end the war a bit sooner than it would normally have taken. How is the army doing?"

"Fine, sire," said Marc. "I was planning on attacking the Varden early the next morning, and Dusk has given me quite a bit of valuable information regarding them."

"Oh? Like what?"

"They have three elves one their side, a magicians' guild, a cavalry unit let by the Surdan King Orrin, and fifty thousand men. She has also told me that nearly all of their supplies are coming from Surda, their host, and that the Varden have no idea what a strategy is. They have dwarf reinforcements on the way. Also, she doesn't know which side one of the elves is on, but I am going to treat him as an enemy until he gives me reason to believe differently."

Shruikan extended his mind out to the Varden camp._ "Has she told you of the change in leadership?"_

"Change in leadership?" asked Marc, alarmed.

_"Relax, Marc," _said Shruikan. _"__This change is in our favor. It seems that Ajihad and Jormundur were both assassinated earlier today, and they have chosen a winged boy as their new leader. Many of the Varden are unhappy and thinking of mutiny, but they seem to be ready to wait until the battle is over to rebel."_

"They're letting a _boy _take command of the army?" said Marc.

_"Apparently. Their memories of it are rather fuzzy, so I don't know the specifics." _To only Galbatorix he added, _"__I would say that there's been a memory modification of _everyone _in the Varden, including the new leader."_

_"That's not possible! There are fifty thousand troops there, some of which are magicians. A memory modification of that scale..."_

_"I know, but all of them have the same memory, even though they shouldn't have all been standing in the same place during the new leader's speech. Their memories of the event are also patchy, and there are many holes scattered throughout. The specifics and exact wording of the speech are blurred. There is no way this is natural. I have my suspicions, but..."_

_"What?" _Galbatorix caught something in Shruikan's thoughts and managed to have a good look at it before the dragon could throw it behind his mental walls. It was the voice of the one who had convinced them that Dusk was trustworthy.

_"We don't know who she is,"_ said Shruikan, _"__and yet we believed her. She must have nudged our minds in the right direction without us knowing. Something with that amount of power is beyond even us."_

_"You're right! Should we find her and put a stop to her?"_

_"No, I don't think we even could. Besides, we don't know her motivations right now. Even if she was the one to change the Varden's memories like that, then we still don't know _why_. She could be a potential ally for all we know."_

_"I don't like this."_

_"Neither do I, but what can we do about it? Let's concentrate on the battle for now. But I will warn the rest of the alliance to let them know."_

* * *

><p>Pigeon wandered through the Varden camp, doing his best to think of a strategy that would let them win and trying to ignore the hostile looks he was getting from many of the soldiers. The assassination had been very sudden, just like Pigeon's rise to leadership. In fact, he couldn't quite recall just how he had managed to get to the position of leader. He couldn't remember having ever wanted it, anyway.<p>

He had owned a book on old battles before, but he couldn't remember anything in it now that he actually needed to. He ran his mind back through the battles he knew about where the outnumbered and outclassed armies had won. There had been the Revolutionary War, but that had been an entire war; there was that war between Texas and Mexico, but again, that was a war; there was that time when someone with a name starting with a C had defeated the entire Incan (or was it Aztec?) army with about ten people or something, but that was only because they had had horses and guns-

He started. Guns! That was it! Sure, he didn't know how to make a _gun_, exactly, but he did know how to make gunpowder and bombs. Sort of. They would explode, anyways, so they technically counted as bombs, even if they looked more like squashed bananas.

He asked a passing soldier, "Hey, do you know where King Orrin is?"

"Over there somewhere," said the soldier, pointing.

"Thanks," said Pigeon, and hurried off in that direction.

King Orrin's tent wasn't too big. There were about four guards outside, and they stopped Pigeon.

"Who're you?" asked one.

"The new leader of the Varden," said Pigeon. "I don't know if you've heard yet, but if you haven't, then Ajihad and Jormundur were just assassinated this morning and they picked me as the new leader. Can I see King Orrin?"

"Oh, so you're the boy everyone's been hating on?" said another one. "Alright then." He pulled back the tent flap and called inside it, "Your Majesty! The Varden's new leader wants an audience with you!"

"Tell him to come in!"

"There you go then," said the guard, and ushered Pigeon in.

The inside of the tent had quite a bunch of tables covered in bottles and vials of weird liquids. King Orrin was poking a meteorite with a stick when Pigeon walked in. He turned.

"You're Pigeon?" he asked, looking him up and down. Pigeon nodded.

"Um, King Orrin, I heard you were good with chemicals and stuff, and I've got an idea that might let us win this battle," said Pigeon hurriedly.

"Really? What's your idea?"

"Do you know what a bomb is?" asked Pigeon. Orrin shook his head. "Oh, well, it's this thing that makes stuff explode. I was thinking of planting some around the camp."

"There's a plant that makes things explode?" asked Orrin, sounding _way_ too excited.

"What? No, it's not a plant. I meant making a bunch of them and placing them around the camp. If the Empire's army steps on them, then they blow up," said Pigeon. He tried not to think about what would happen to all those people. They probably all had families at home, too. Parents and children and siblings and wives who would cry for them if they died. They all believed in their cause, all believed that the Varden was a terrorist group and the Empire (with a king!) was right. There was no reason for them to die. It wasn't _right_.

"Do you know how to make them?"

Pigeon tried to ignore the thoughts and answered Orrin. "Yeah, but can I use your chemicals for it?"

"Sure!"

Maybe there was a chance of winning this after all.

He tried not to think that winning would mean a hundred thousand people dead.

It didn't work.


	35. Final Bosses: Not So Final Anymore

_He is a mad elf, utterly mad. But then, are not all the elves mad? Linden is special because he knows he is mad and revels in the knowledge. All the immortals are mad but for dragons, and none of them will acknowledge it, except for Linden. My dear, sweet Linden. And my sister thinks her pet acorn is mad? To a human, maybe, but to be considered so to even elves, it takes much more._

_Death. Does he fear death? No. He wants to die, desperately, but neither does he want to stop living. Odd. I suppose that is what atheism does. Or... no. He knows the gods exist. He simply does not think there is an afterlife. I wish I could tell him, but I cannot. I would not know. I have never died. But I hope there is not one._

_When the time comes, when I have taken my sister's magic and my brother's, and am capable of the great task I have in mind (But then, is not everything in my mind? Everything…), I shall spare Linden the rest of the land's fate. He does not deserve peace, but I shall grant it to him because he is faithful to me, and because he understands. He understands me, and I love him for it._

_Eternal life, invulnerability, are those not such beautiful things? By themselves, perhaps (and maybe not even then), but not together. The dragons know when immortality goes too far. They are wise, and so they will not suffer either. I will make sure of that. But the elves? Pah! They, they are unforgivable. The humans will be included as well, even if their stupidity is truly naivety, and the dwarves. The urgals? ...No. They have never liked the idea of immortality. Invulnerability, yes, but then they would still die when the time came. They, too, are wise in these matters._

_The humans, the elves, the dwarves: they think immortality and invulnerability together is a thing to be desired. I wonder, will they believe the same when they truly cannot die?_

* * *

><p>I was staying towards the edge of the Empire's camp, loafing around and doing nothing in general, when I saw the black smudge in the sky,<p>

It was shiny.

And when I reached out my mind for it, I found that it was Shrew Can (what sort of stupid name is that?) and Gandalf. What were they doing here? Final bosses were just supposed to stay in their castles and wait for the heroes to come and kill them, not the other way around. That's why they're called final bosses.

Oh wait, I didn't need to be worried. I was on their side now.

I told the Mark guy, _"Gabriel and Shrew Can are coming."_

He started. _"What? The king is here?"_

"_Coming," _I corrected. _"They're not here yet. Like, they're maybe about a few miles away? Oh wait, never mind, I think they can go at light speed because- You can see them now, can't you? 'Cause if you can't, then you're blind. No offense. At all."_

They were circling over the camp, nearly blotting out the sky. That dragon is seriously fat. Then some little red blob flew up to them and landed on Shrew Can's back. Talos, probably. I kept on feeling like I recognized the name… It sounded pretty cool though, wherever it was from.

Then they landed about a mile outside the camp near me, and I flew over and landed in front of Shrew Can.

The dragon looked at me and snorted some smoke (I know alliteration, yay!). Then he pretended to trip and nearly accidentally stepped on me on purpose, but I ran out of the way before his foot came down.

There were already soldiers running out and crowding around the big dragon. Why is everyone so fast? I mean, Shrew Can flew like ten miles in half a second and then all these soldiers run one mile in about one minute. _I _can only run a mile in twenty minutes. Stupid light-speed soldiers. Or maybe it's just I'm really slow on my feet. Probably both.

Gables clambered down Shrew Can and dropped to the ground. The soldiers stopped chattering and scrambled out of the way as he marched through the mob. Mark and some shorty went over to meet him. Then I saw the hammer in the shorty's belt and his red beard, and realized he was a dwarf. The beard was a dead giveaway.

Mark and the dwarf and Gabriella mysteriously vanished, and the crowd hung around for a bit before drifting off. Shrew Can lay down and played with Talos while pretending hard to make it look like he wasn't playing.

A few hours of boringness later (I was actually about to find a place to go to sleep, since it was nearly midnight), Shrew Can told me to get over there. Talos was asleep next to him, with his head on a big glowing orange rock. He looked adorable, really, except the orange rock was a bit weird.

"_You_," said Shrew Can, "_are an untrustworthy git. I still do not know why we let you switch sides."_

"Gee, thanks."

"_Our soldiers will attack at dawn. They will split in two and go around the Burning Plains. Alberto and I-"_

"Who?"

"_Galbatorix and I,"_ he corrected, _"will stay back here until the two armies engage before helping. You will be going with Talos. The two of you are to engage Saphira and her rider in the air until we get there. These are your orders. You will obey them. If you do not, then Talos knows what to do. You must also make sure that your battle is in the air. Do whatever you can to provoke them into following you."_

"Yeah, I know." That was going to be easy, at least. Saphira was probably going to go into berserker mode or something when she'd seen me change sides. Actually, I didn't know if it would be Saphira or Eragon who would be worse. But Eragon was an idiot anyways. He deserved it, sending me on an assassin mission. Wait, didn't they say it was Pigeon's idea? They're all idiots then.

"_Nuanen will accompany you."_

"_Her_? Are you serious?"

Shrew Can glared at me.

"Okay yes you are serious. Fine, I'll go with her, but I call narrator. Where's Murtagh going to be? I feel like everyone's forgotten about him."

"_Murtagh_,_"_ said Shrew Can, _"is a fine warrior, but a terrible soldier. Aristocrats generally are. Talos is large enough to carry him right now, but it would not be advisable, because he has grown too quickly for him to adapt and an added weight would only slow him down. In a few more weeks, perhaps, when Talos is old enough to carry him, Murtagh will useful on a battlefield. Not now. He will stay behind in the camp with Marc and Dolk."_

"Who's Dork?" I mean, who names their kid Dork? It's like naming a kid Galbatorix. You don't name someone Dork unless you want them to grow up stupid.

"_Dolk, with an L," _Shrew Can corrected. Oh, okay, that makes more sense. I'm still going to call him Dork, though. It's easier to remember. _"He's our best strategist. He used to be the same rank as Marc, but we demoted him. He's the dwarf, by the way."_

"Why did a dwarf join you guys?"

"_Because he could," _said Shrew Can. _"Leave now."_

I did.

* * *

><p><strong>End of part one.<br>**


	36. Part Two

**Part two: The role-playing game. Also known as: The story's _finally _begun! Yay!  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>You may notice that your perception of the world has changed," <em>said the Lady.

"_This would be our fault._

"_Once you wake, you will be able to see the different alliances. I will not tell you what alliances there are. Some animals, as well as important plants and fungi (there is a reason we are including species besides the dragons, humans, elves, urgals, werecats, and dwarves), will have an… _aura_ of a certain color, which represents their alliance. I leave you to discover what each color means. The majority of animals, however, will look mostly normal, with no color surrounding them. They are neutral. An important note is that betrayal is still allowed, as well as spying, but temporarily disguising one's alliance will put a strain on one's magic, which naturally means that all spies must be at least mediocre at spellcasting._

"_Besides the alliance colors, you will also notice three bars to the left of each individual, including those neutral: one purple, one black, one red. The purple shows the individual's magical strength, the black its mental strength, and the red its physical. I will provide fair warning to you all: physical strength is considerably weaker than the other two, since it mostly focuses on melee fighting. It is suggested that those with a high red bar and low purple and black bars train in archery or other ranged forms of combat, or at least be slightly intelligent."_

"_Ooh, cool! Do we get levels too?"_ That would be Dusk.

"_Fortunately, no. A level system would be grossly unfair and would result in most of Alagaesia being dead within the week._

"_This information is only being passed on to leaders and high-ranking members of each alliance. Likewise, only these people will be capable of seeing the alliances and bars. However, leaders are able to give the ability to other members in their alliance. You will be able to discover how on your own.  
><em>

"_To see your own bars and alliance, you need merely wish to see it, and the bars and a square of your alliance's color will appear before you._

"_Ranks, too, are displayed, although crudely. Leaders will have a golden crown symbol, high-ranking members will have a silver crown, and those who have been given the ability to all this by their leaders will have a bronze crown. Crowns can be hidden in the same way as the alliance colors.  
><em>

"_This is a role-playing game. I am one of three gamemasters. From this point onward, all of you share an objective, although you may ignore it in favor of your own goals. Your objective is to end the game. To end the game, you must disable the gamemasters. If you somehow manage to figure out how to kill us, then do so. I look forward to it. Please note that the three of us are immortal and invincible, hence the lack of a time limit on the game. Each of us also has a ridiculously elaborate and destructive plot of our own going on, and while I do not know about my fellows, I can say quite confidently that none of my followers know my own plans; they simply carry them out. If you manage to figure out any of our plans, then I commend your efforts and wish you luck in stopping us._

_"Every individual who manages to take down a gamemaster will be granted a reward of one wish, and the gamemasters will also stop meddling in your affairs for a good while, the exact duration of time to be determined later."  
><em>

"_How do we identify you if we meet?" _That would be Shruikan.

The Lady couldn't help smiling. It wasn't a very nice smile. _"You will _certainly _be able to tell us apart from normal alliance leaders. I guarantee it._

"_Now, I do not care whether you understand all this or not. I do not care if I have made this unclear in any way. I will not take questions. I will not say who exactly I am, nor will I disclose my location (although some of you already know)._

"_There are those of you will be unwilling to participate. Allow me to give you an incentive: I was responsible for both the fall and rise of the dragon riders, and so, indirectly, for the destruction they caused during their reign." _She paused. _"Not entirely. Quite a bit of it - the fall, that is, and the destruction - was the riders' own fault. I merely nudged them in the right — or wrong, depending on how you look at it — direction.  
><em>

"_You may begin."_

* * *

><p><em>Known alliances:<em>

None

_Known gold crowns:_

None

_Known silver crowns:_

None

_Known bronze crowns:_

None


End file.
